


Oasis

by Wafflesrock



Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: AU, Adventures, Desert Setting, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Fantasy setting, Knotting, Smut, The Collectors - Freeform, Turians as nagas, Xenophilia, sex with feelings, turian/human relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-05-19 03:42:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 28,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19348792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wafflesrock/pseuds/Wafflesrock
Summary: The Council races fear one thing above all else when crossing the Palaveni desert: turians, or as the ancients called them, nagas. Increased raids on caravans have inspired the Alliance to send military patrols with traveling merchants, including Commander Jane Shepard. But, when calamity strikes and Jane finds herself thrown together with a turian prince, alone and lost in the dunes, can the pair overcome their misgivings and work together to get back to civilization, or will another, unforeseen threat tear them and their people apart?





	1. The Storm

**Author's Note:**

  * For [squiggly_squid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/squiggly_squid/gifts).



The rolling white dunes of the Palaveni desert were reminiscent of the ocean; they churned and heaved with the relentless winds, changing shape and location as readily as a wave in storm plagued seas. Sand like foam and spume frothed up to lap at shins and splash exposed skin, but instead of a cool, watery balm, scalding burns were the travelers’ reward. 

What rocks or boulders lay exposed in this sun choked realm of sand and sweat were warped and deformed, twisted into abstract caricatures of the solid masses they’d once been. Rippling waves of heat formed mirages far out on the horizon, a persistent lie that water was only a few hundred yards away.  

Jane knew better. She’d been traversing this barren hell-scape since she was a teenager. She knew the trade routes and could find the caravan paths even under layers of sand and wouldn’t let the merciless sun beat the sense from her mind. There were other dangers though, unrelated to heat stroke or dehydration. 

“Are all the camels’ feet booted?” 

Jane turned to face Captain Anderson. The only features he left exposed to the elements were his almond shaped, whiskey colored eyes. His head, neck, and the rest of his body was wrapped in linen and other cloth to protect his skin from the oppressive sun and biting sand grains that flew up to nip at nostrils and parched lips when disturbed. 

“The emu feather boots are secured,” Jane confirmed, unconsciously testing her own unique footwear with a gentle shift from her left foot to her right. 

“Good.” Anderson responded. “The dunes and wind might steal your voice, but it's the vibrations that call them in. Footsteps are like drum beats; they lie half buried in the sand, waiting for the percussion song of easy prey.”

Jane frowned, gazing down the line of booted camels and men that composed their company. _Naga,_  the ancients had called them. Creatures bred of the dunes themselves, with lower bodies like serpents encrusted with scintillating scales that reflected the sun, and scythe like talons affixed to strong, three fingered hands. 

Turian raiders were more dangerous than any other sentient threat in these lands. Many a caravan had vanished into the swirling sands, dragged down to the subterranean city of Cipritine, the human, asari and even krogan merchants never to be heard of again.

The turians shunned the oasis cities of the council races, preferring the feral wastes to green shadows cast by date palms in the civilized parts of the country. But their desert lay in the middle of the continent. And so long as people had to cross it, the turians would continue to pillage, plunder, and enslave any who became complacent in their trek. 

Captain Anderson turned away, walking back to the front of their camel train, past the sluggish soldiers trudging along side it, swords dangling limply at their hips, looking as tired as their wielders. 

In an effort to ensure safe passage of goods and wealth from the Citadel back to Sol City, the Alliance had begun sending military escorts to accompany returning merchants. Attacks on human travelers especially had increased in recent months and officials were keen to put down the turian perpetrators. 

The work was exhausting, and a posting many soldiers had come to dread. The Matriarchy and Salarian Union likewise tired of desert pirates with whom no negotiation could be broached had also begun sending STG agents and huntresses to accompany traders. 

Mercenaries were also profiting off fear of the Hierarchy. Camel trains with heavily armed  krogan and elcor guards had become a common sight leaving the gilded arches of the Citadel’s main gate. 

It was a waste of resources in the long run. Jane was positive Blood Pack and Eclipse stole more merchandise than the turians, all things considered. And the Council races could actually _do_ something about the gangs if they put forth the effort. Propaganda and hysteria over ancient monsters with coils like cold fire was far more compelling though, and so the gangs were generally free to terrorize desert wanderers while the turians took the brunt of the blame. 

“There’s a storm approaching from the East,” Joker noted from his position atop a white furred camel. Jane craned her neck up to see his face, eyes shaded by a straw hat looking more worthy of the ocean then their current surroundings.

His mount made a gurgling sound in its throat, lips moving over an invisible cud, unconcerned by the looming mountain of dust, dark and pulsing like a living cloud, that thundered toward them at an alarming rate. 

“You just now noticed?” Jane yelled up at him before quickly turning to run down the length of the train. “Sandstorm!” she called to the weary soldiers and merchants. “Get the camels down! Secure the packs!”

The previously lethargic men suddenly sprang into action, noticing the oncoming wall of death behind them. Shouts, grunts, and lows, filled the suddenly heavy air as sand began to rise from the ground like an inverse rainstorm. Making it to the end of the caravan, Jane helped a young soldier - Jenkins, maybe? - yank a stubborn chestnut colored camel down onto its stomach. 

Distantly, she could hear Anderson booming out orders but the sound was swallowed as the storm hit. Her vision became foggy, then dark, as a tempest of biting, stinging sand flew up all around her. She pulled her shawl over her face, burrowing into the camel’s flank. 

Senses muffled, she was unaware of other dangers until Jenkins suddenly slumped against her, his body heavy and inert. Moving to shove him off, Jane’s hands were at once slick with the unmistakable viscosity of blood and then immediately caked in sand. 

Jumping to her feet, she strained to hear screams and the clang of steel. Unsheathing her scimitar, she struggled not to breath in the filthy air while simultaneously searching out their attackers. 

Vague shadows moved within the storm, like dark specters, too illusory for shape. The figures might be camels or men or pirates, she wouldn’t know until she struck. Jane didn’t relish unintentionally injuring one of her own party, but hesitating too long might mean her own death. 

When a heavy shape hit the sand next to her with a resonate _thud_ loud enough to be heard over the moaning wind, she moved on pure instinct. Her sword swept down to the thing near her feet, meeting stiff resistance but still sinking through flesh and sinew. 

Pulling her weapon free took more effort than it should have, and when she held the gleaming blade close to her face, the reason for this was made abundantly clear: smeared across the steel and being whipped into the wind, sickly, cobalt blood trickled down the scimitar’s blade before pooling at the tip. 

_Turians._

If she spared a thought on the matter, it made perfect sense. Only they had the plated bodies and adaptations to launch an assault during a sandstorm. Even so, it was a bold move and one that would cost them dearly. 

Squinting down at the large body in front of her, Jane felt the fine hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. This turian was dead long before she slashed it with her blade. Even shrouded by dust, she could see the ramrod straight forms of arrow shafts riddling the deceased’s flanks, with one vicious looking spear protruding from the neck. 

What was this? Was there another unknown threat, preying on both humans _and_ turians?

Focused on the corpse in front of her, she was caught completely off guard when large, clawed hands suddenly seized her between the legs and across the chest. Opening her mouth to gasp in alarm, she swallowed a lungful of sand as she was lifted skyward and hauled away like a sack of rice, into the swirling storm and away from her companions. 

**********

Every muscle in his body screamed with pain when he at last crested another massive dune and deposited the flailing, swinging human onto the ground. He swiftly liberated her of the sword she’d been trying to hack him with and flung it as far as he could out into the distance.

Springing to her feet, the human glared up at him with eyes like burning emeralds; grains of sand still held fast in the thick fan lashes. Her hair, a red deeper than the Palaveni sunset, clung to dust and grit and her pale skin was likewise stained in mottled brown patches across her face and arms.

Despite the layer of filth that coated her, the human’s fury was beautiful in its intensity. Her entire body radiated a deadly, intense heat that he swore he could actually see rising from her face arms in thin, scorching white flames.

“Nobody grabs me like that,” she bit out in a raw voice. “How da–”

“I  rescued you!” Garrus snapped, his own rage at Sidonis’s betrayal erupting like an obsidian geyser from deep within his chest. “If I hadn't ‘grabbed you’ then you’d be choking to death on sand with the rest of your caravan, while those traitors slit your throats!”

“Rescued me, huh?” The human let out a bitter laugh. “Saved me from death to gift me with life as a slave?” She snorted before fixing him with searing stare. “I’d prefer to die.”

Garrus felt his lower mandible drop, whirling thoughts of ripping off Sidonis’ scales suddenly forgotten.

“Slave?” He repeated, an edge of anger in his vocals. “Turians don’t keep slaves. That’s a practice reserved for your more _civilized_ races.” He made sure to emphasize the word as he drew closer, deliberately circling her with his coils, an echo of what he could do if she didn’t cooperate. “ _You’re_ the ones who enslave my people; torture and dissect them, leaving nothing but mutilated flesh and bleaching bones in your wake.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about you lying snake - ”

“Do you have any idea who I am?” Garrus interrupted, continuing his methodical loop while the human turned her neck, following him with a scalding glare.

“Judging by the amount of gaudy jewelry and bright clothes, I assumed you were a prostitute,” the human replied.

Garrus froze in his glide as a deep, resonating growl clawed its way out of his throat, making the scales on his tail rattle and vibrate. The numerous gold bangles on his wrists clinked together comically, dampening his fury.

“I, am _prince_ Garrus Vakarian, heir to the turian throne,” he informed her. “And the only reason I’m in this ridiculous getup is because I was in route to an important conference,” he felt compelled to add, silently cursing his father for demanding that his attire be befitting of his title. Weighed down as he was, Sidonis didn’t have to try hard to ditch him near the humans. 

No matter, he’d make that bare-faced cowered pay for his treason, and for every soldier who’d died as a result.

At the thought of his murdered guard Garrus felt his shoulders slump, indigo cloak feeling suddenly too heavy on his cowl. He should’ve known, should have –

A crack of thunder tore him from his thoughts. The dark, anvil shaped clouds that were gathering over the dunes were far deadlier than any sandstorm. The human made a humming sound, eyes focused on the sky.

Her legs would be useless in a race against the heavens' tumult. Garrus pinched his mandibles against his face, unconsciously rubbing the silver rings at his maxilla against his cheek as he thought. He’d seen enough death today. That’s what had compelled him to save the human when she’d become separated from the others, and what now had him lowering submissively at her feet.

“Get on my back,” he commanded. “I can out-pace the storm.”

The human hesitated, eyes warily roving over his form.

“Now human!” Garrus barked, urgency seeping into his vocals. “Unless you’d rather die out here like you were previously hoping?”

Wordlessly, she straddled his upper back, hands grasping onto his cowl hard enough that the chitin ached.

Rising back up to his full height, Garrus quickly began pulling off the bangles at his wrists, the belts of gold rings around his upper torso, the thick necklaces around his neck, anything that might slow him down. Tossing the opulent jewelry into the sand, he glanced up at the human.

“Hold on, human,” he cautioned.

“Jane,” she muttered in response.

“Hold on Jane,” he advised. And then his coils sprang free, muscles racing as he sped across the desert, quicksilver in flight, the small human still gripping firmly to his cowl.


	2. A New Trek

Time sped by as the turian - _Garrus_ -  swept across the dusky dunes, stained a deep mauve by the oncoming night and pursuing storm. Jane held onto the thick, bony cowl that rose out of Garrus’s back, casting furtive glances behind her at the vicious sky. 

True to his word, Garrus put great distance between them and the lightning which cut jagged gashes into the heavens and punched down into the sands, creating desert glass in its wake. 

When at last the self-proclaimed prince collapsed with exhaustion, body heaving with each labored breath, the storm was but a distant memory. Jane slid off him, legs stiff and the joints of her hands aching with every stretch of fingers and tendon. 

The desert was silent as a crypt. No nighttime birds or even insects disturbed the somber air with their calls or wings. Their absence created a void which Jane felt with every fiber of her being. She was suddenly hyper aware of passing time, as the minutes crawled over her like worms, making her fidget as a more primal part of her brain urged her to move, run, put her body in motion else it might become a corpse in this deathly quiet shadow land. 

“Why are you so antsy?” 

The question freed her from the suffocating grave she’d fallen into and she whipped around to see Garrus staring at her intently, wan moonlight glinting off his pointed teeth as his mandibles flared softly against his face. 

“It’s too quiet here,” she answered lamely. 

Garrus snorted before raising off the ground. “Isn’t that a good thing?” he asked, head turning left and then right to take in their surroundings. “It means we’ve out-paced the storm and no one followed us.”

Jane wasn’t sure who, precisely, could have kept up with them but supposed he had a point. “We need a fire,” she said, noticing the goose flesh that had begun to pimple her arms. “This place is freezing at night.”

“Maybe for you,” came the slightly snotty response. 

Jane turned to scowl at the turian who was presently admiring his cloak, as though checking it for wrinkles. “Yes, I am cold,” she informed him, voice taking a venomous edge. “And unless we get a fire going you’ll be hearing about how uncomfortable I am, in graphic detail, until sunup.”

Garrus glanced at her and though it was too dark to see his eyes Jane was positive they were narrowed in annoyance. “Fine,” came the aggravated response.

The next hour or so was spent hunting down the meager bushes scattered within the valley of dunes and collecting brittle twigs. Jane’s teeth were chattering by the time they had arranged their scant findings in a pile and Garrus had produced a small satchel tucked inside his cowl containing flint. 

The delicate embers that greedily feasted on the sticks provided little warmth, but Jane scooted as close to the tender flames as possible, demanding her body absorb all the heat it could. 

“It’s a wonder humans have survived as long as they have,” Garrus remarked from behind her. “They can’t handle heat or, apparently, cold. If it weren’t for the oasis cities they’d have died off long ago from simple exposure.”

Jane turned to glare at him. He’d wound his long, muscular body into a series of  thickly stacked coils, resting his arms and upper torso comfortably on the top as he watched her. The effect made him resemble a turd. A big, silver, coiled turd. She smirked at the image and considered telling him what he presently looked like but the words caught in her parched throat. 

“Do you have any water?” she croaked, insult quickly forgotten in favor of more pressing concerns. 

Garrus made a scoffing sound that seemed to radiate through the sand. “Of course you’re thirsty,” he muttered. Reaching into his satchel once more he produced a steel flask which he tossed to her. Jane greedily unscrewed the lid and gulped down the remaining warm, metallic tasting water.

Still thirsty but feeling eons better she took a shuddering sigh before letting her shoulders slump. “Where are we?” she eventually inquired, eyes closed as fatigue slowly replaced adrenaline. 

A faint buzzing sound rippled out through the sand. “I’m not entirely sure,” came the hesitant response. 

“You don’t know where we are?” Her voice took on a shrill note that made Garrus noticeably cringe. 

“I wasn’t exactly plotting our route when I started to race,” he said testily. “But calm down, I can smell out hidden wells and oases, you’ll have water, and Cipritine is only a few weeks away.”

Jane felt her rushing thoughts come to an abrupt halt. “What do you mean Cipritine? You’re taking us to Cipritine? The Hierarchy capital?” 

Garrus made a noise somewhere between a growl and a groan, head tipping back so his fringe fell inside his cowl. “I told you, turians don’t keep slaves. Cipritine is leagues closer than any council race city, so it’s the obvious choice.”

“And I’m just supposed to believe that I won’t be shackled in irons as soon as I step foot in that subterranean shanty-town?”

“Cipritine is not a ‘shanty-town.’ While it is underground, its beauty rivals anything the council races could build.” The way Garrus was staring at her had Jane subconsciously reaching for her scimitar, only to remember he’d thrown it out into the sand sea. 

Insulting her guide wasn’t going to achieve anything but death by dehydration and exposure. Forcing herself to take a deep breath, Jane exhaled slowly through her nose. They needed to open a dialogue. One without sarcasm and insults coloring every sentence. 

“I’m sorry,” she said, craning her head to look Garrus in the face and wondering when he’d slithered closer. “I’ve never seen Cipritine. I have no place to judge.” She felt her muscles loosen as the taught line of Garrus’s upper body also relaxed. “Just, try to put yourself in my shoes - er, in my position,” she amended. “Turians attacked my caravan, I’m unarmed and miles away from anywhere or anyone I know, with someone whose people are being blamed for the disappearance of camel trains - notably Alliance camel trains. I have no choice but to trust you, but can you at least appreciate that it’s hard?”

Garrus stood completely still while she spoke; he might well have been a statue cut out of stone. At last, he moved his tail and lower body, coming to rest in a companionable position next to her by the fire. “We weren’t trying to attack your caravan,” he said softly. “I was in route to a summit with the other leaders of my people. To discuss the increased kidnapping and murder of my own race by something - or someone - not affiliated with the council races.” His eyes shone in the firelight, luminous and bright reminding Jane of moonlight on the ocean; deep, rolling waves of blue pulling her in past the breakers to look inside the man himself. 

“I was betrayed by the Captain of my guard,” he continued, mandibles flaring outward in a snarl. “Captain Sidonis led me and my escort into a trap. His followers used the sandstorm to take us by surprise and they struck without mercy.” He glanced over to her. “They were probably hoping to make it look like the Alliance soldiers killed me in all the confusion. Pity for Sidonis I escaped.” He let out a primal growl that echoed of a more savage age. “I’ve heard you humans have a saying,” he bit out, “an eye for an eye. By my count, Sidonis owes me ten.”  

“I see.” Jane answered after the silence following his proclamation began to weigh upon her. His story added up from what she’d seen, it explained why the turian she’d slashed with her sword was already dead. She tried to imagine being betrayed by someone she trusted with her life and found the thought akin to a nightmare. 

“I’ll help you, if I can,” she told him. “To get revenge on Sidonis, hold him responsible for his actions. He killed my friends, too.”

Garrus ducked his head. “I… thank you,” he returned with a gentle rumble to his vocals. 

Neither one spoke after that. Jane sat gazing at the scorched twigs of their dying fire until sleep claimed her. She slept like a thing long dead, with no dreams or other thought until she registered the suns’ rays on her head and face. Cracking open her eyes she retreated back into the shadow of a dune, only then noticing that Garrus’s cloak was draped over her shoulders and back as he pretended not to see her staring at him from atop a nearby dune. 

**********

They’d been walking for hours, the sun pummeling her exposed skin. Her insides felt like burnt and brittle parchment paper, and she was sure her dehydrated organs were flaking apart with each heavy, heat-sick step she took. 

Garrus had assured her some time ago that he could smell fresh water on the thin breeze. But as the sun soared overhead in the cloudless sky, now sitting directly above them, Jane felt like an evaporated puddle; the cracks in her skin the only sign water had ever existed. 

“Up ahead,” Garrus suddenly said, pointing a long, taloned finger at a patch of green several hundred feet away. The shapes of the trees were distorted by heat waves, shimmering and waving like a dream fading to wakefulness. But it was enough to instill new vigor into Jane’s withered limbs as she forced herself to not sprint for the oasis. 

Once within the shade of the palms, however, Jane charged toward the hidden spring, stumbling over her useless legs and falling face first into the crystalline water. She hunched on all fours like some sort of misshapen antelope, gulping down mouthfuls of the refreshing liquid, making soft whimpers and moans as she felt her body reawaken, like a drought stricken grassland suddenly hit by a deluge. 

Sated, she fell back onto her hands panting, water droplets still dripping from her chin. She heard the soft slide of sand as Garrus approached and opened her eyes to see him staring down at her with decided pity in his face. 

Wordlessly, he approached the spring and bent at the waist to lower his empty flask into the water before pulling up and taking a dignified drink. Jane huffed. She wondered how her royal companion would fare in wetter climates. Were those plates and scales waterproof, or would he drown in a rainstorm?

Jane glanced down at her hands and grimaced. Where the water had splashed them they appeared clean, while the rest of her skin was layered and streaked in dust, sweat, and grime. In a word, she was disgusting. And she felt it. 

“Garrus?” 

He screwed the lid back on his flask before looking at her, a soft rumble echoing somewhere within his chest. 

 “I’d like to wash off.” Jane gestured to the spring.

Garrus gazed at the water before flicking his mandibles out in what might have been a shrug. “Sure,” he said, bending down again to refill his flask. 

When he’d finished drinking his fill and replenished the canister once more, Jane turned and stared at him expectantly. He stared back. 

“Well?” She finally inquired.

“Well what?” Garrus scowled at her, twitching his tail and causing the looser scales there to rattle. 

“I’m going to wash off, remember?” 

“Yeah?”

“And I’d like to take my clothes off when I do that, so…” Jane made a shooing motion with the blade of her hand.

“You want me to leave?”

Jane stared at him wondering how any person could be so dense. “Obviously I want you leave! I don’t want you seeing me naked!”

Garrus made a series of clicks and soft squawks before dramatically turning and gliding out of the trees, though Jane swore she heard him mutter “prude human,” as he left.

Sighing once he was out of sight, Jane stripped out of her filthy clothes and stepped into the warm, shallow water. She submerged her head, running fingers through the knots in her hair before lifting her face above the surface once more. Gods but it felt good to shed the dirt and misery of the last several days!

She hoped Anderson, Joker, and the rest of her caravan had made it to safety. If the attack on their camel train was really part of a coup to kill Garrus, it was extremely unlikely her team would be pursued. Although, once word reached the council of what had happened she feared retaliation would be on everyone’s minds. 

Whispers of her conversation with Garrus came back from the night before. He’d mentioned an unknown adversary killing his people. Was it possible that this threat was behind the disappearance of human caravans as well?

She hummed to herself before locking away the chorus of ‘what-ifs’ inside a deep vault. She could investigate what Garrus knew of the human and turian disappearances later. For now, she needed to worry solely about keeping herself alive. And that started with getting clean.

She scrubbed at her arms and legs, allowing herself to finally relax. Slowly, the layers of dust and filth washed away, leaving behind clean, raw skin. When she’d scoured her body as thoroughly as she could, she turned her attention to the pile of clothes flung over a leaning palm trunk. 

She pulled her soiled shirt into the water and worked at it until the original beige color was visible once more. She next turned to her pants. They were encrusted with a film of dried sweat around the waistband and Jane scrunched up her nose in disgust as she began rubbing the fabric against itself, lost in thoughts of how she’d never truly get the garment clean. 

When she heard his voice, it was too late to do anything other than glare in open mouthed, impotent rage. 

“Are you done yet? We need… to keep… um…” Garrus trailed off as his eyes traced every contour and curve of her body from where she stood, submerged from the knees down. They lingered on points of interest such as her breasts, hair, and notably, the place between her legs. 

“Turn around!” Jane screamed, finally finding her voice as Garrus stared mandibles agape and eyes wide at her womanhood. 

Ripped from his trance Garrus whirled around, sending a spray of sand to strike her in the torso. 

“What’s wrong with you?” she demanded, storming onto the shore to grab the rest of her clothes from the tree trunk. 

“I thought you were done,” came a sheepish sounding reply. 

“I would have come found you if I was done,” Jane grumbled, pulling her damp shirt over her head. As her eyes pulled free of the fabric she glimpsed Garrus swiftly turning his head away. _Pervert!_ She internally fumed, though another part of her mind chided that were their positions reversed and there was actually something to _see_ on Garrus other than glinting, metallic looking scales she, too, would have spared a peek.

“Are you… dressed?” Garrus asked after she’d pulled on her boots. She considered making a condescending remark about him having already seen the full show, but decided against it. “All the exciting parts are covered now,” she deadpanned. 

To his credit, Garrus managed to look embarrassed, mandibles flapping gently against his face as the piercings there winked in the sunbeams that cut through the canopy of palm fronds. A clawed hand moved to rub at the back of his neck, the solitary bangle slipping down his wrist as he rumbled out a weak sounding “sorry.” 

Jane sighed. What did turian… parts… look like anyway? There were plenty of rumors, but nobody really knew for sure. Every now and then an asari matriarch would claim to have 'embraced eternity' with a turian centuries ago, but these claims could hardly be substantiated. And even if they _were_ true, asari weren’t generally fond of sexual penetration, preferring to mind meld with their partners. 

Back in Sol city, her friend Ashley had once told her that male turians had cocks as blue as their blood. Jane had rolled her eyes at the time, knowing how Ashley loved retelling wild stories she’d heard from her grandfather as a child. But now, she wondered if any of the seemingly tall tales about turian anatomy were true. 

She silently decided that should the opportunity come to find out, she was owed a look. In the pure interests of science of course. She’d probably find Garrus as strange and unappealing as he undoubtedly found her. Though, she had to admit, there was a certain beauty to the prince. His graceful movements and his fringe of horns were attractive in a way she didn’t want to examine too closely. And his azure eyes, as open and clear as a cloudless day…

“Let’s go,” she said, striding past him and back out into the unrelenting sun. A smile tugged at her lips when she heard him glide after her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's easy to write when you're loving the characters. Hopefully I can keep this momentum going. And yes, you can bet Garrus liked what he saw ;p


	3. Ancient Monsters

The days following the “oasis incident” as he’d come to think of it had admittedly been a bit aggravating. Jane had an affinity for washing off whenever they came to a well or desert spring and he now made sure he was well out of sight and didn’t return until summoned. He resented this however, and was sure the irritation was apparent in his body language if not his subvocals. 

He was accustomed to being in charge and giving out the orders. Having a human woman a third his size command him to leave her alone while she bathed and deciding how long that ritual would take - it seemed to drag for hours some days - was demeaning. The worst of it though wasn’t even her fault. The absolute worst part of her cleansing routine was that while he waited for her to finish, his mind constantly barraged him with images of Jane’s sleek, smooth, naked body. 

He’d shake his head to dispel the heady visions, but like an infiltrator they’d slip between the mental walls he’d try to erect and dance in front of his minds’ eye; a thing so different from a turian he ought to find it repulsive, and yet…

He groaned in frustration, eyes turning upward to the heavens. The daylight was fading as the sun died its evening death, bleeding out gold, then orange, until finally it stained the horizon a deep crimson that seeped into indigo night. Jane would be cold and hungry when she finished washing and he supposed he could at least start a fire and gather some dates from the few trees. 

He’d have to wait for his own food. Being almost entirely carnivorous had its pitfalls, though he could go weeks without eating if he had to. But the small, unassuming holes around the ground ferns spoke of kangaroo rats and possibly larger prey. After Jane fell asleep he could hunt by starlight and hopefully catch himself a snack, even if it would be a meager meal. 

It seemed the topic of his dinner had crossed Jane’s mind as well. As she sat chewing cooked dates she suddenly looked up to him with deep furrows cut into her brow and an expression of concern on her face. “Aren’t you going to have any?” she asked, gesturing to the remaining dates laying on a flat stone. 

“They’d make me sick,” Garrus answered from his place across the fire. Seeing her eyes widen he gave her a reassuring rumble. “I’ll try to catch a packrat or something later,” he said. “I can wait until we get to Cipritine if I have to, turians can go longer without food or water than any of the council races.”

Jane seemed to ponder this as she finished her food, washing it down with a gulp of water from his canteen. “Do you have a particular route in mind? For getting to Cipritine.”

“Yes… mostly. Having to sidetrack for water every day is making it hard to stick with a planned path. And we’ll have to veer wide in order to avoid _nidifica vespa_ in the next day or so.” He subconsciously tightened his coils around himself at thoughts of the ancient, dried out lake bed and what lay buried beneath the chalky surface. 

“I don’t know what you said, but why do we have to avoid that place?” Jane asked as she scooted closer to the fire. 

“ _Nidifica vespa,”_ Garrus repeated for her. “My ancestors used to go there to worship the spirits of the underworld. There’s a crater in the middle of an obliterated lake - a deep, yawning cavern into the very guts of the earth. Once, we’d send the bodies of the departed down the chasm to find eternal rest. But over time, something took up residence there.” He shivered, scales making a dry, scratching sound like the crunch of dead leaves, a sign he'd be shedding soon.  

“There’s an undead evil lurking beneath the surface that hungers for life above." He went on. "Occasionally a scout will see them; they look like the illegitimate offspring of a wasp and a scorpion. They rise in plumes from the lake at sunset like a blighted terrestrial cloud. They’re followed on foot by larger, more horrifying creatures.”

“What are they?” Jane whispered into the crackling flames of their fire. 

“No one knows,” Garrus answered with a flick of his mandibles. “They have many names in my native language, but in general, the flying monsters we call ‘Seekers’ and the bipedal abominations we call ‘Collectors’ because that’s what they do.”

“What… do you mean?” Jane asked, face pulled tight in a look of deep concentration. 

“They ‘collect’ people. Kidnap turians, hunt them down, immobilize them, harvest internal organs. Sometimes people just disappear. Lately, the attacks have become more frequent, and there’s been a call to find a permanent solution to the matter.”

“These Collectors, are these they the ‘something else’ you were talking about earlier?” 

Garrus nodded. At the time his fury had been fixated on Sidonis. But with _nidifica vespa_ nearby, his focus had shifted to the much more deadly threat. 

“Do you think they’re abducting humans too?” Jane asked, moving to sit closer to him. 

“Probably,” he returned, noting how her hair gleamed in the firelight as though it were a living flame itself; flashing copper then crimson, moving with every brush of breeze against her face. 

“What are your people going to do about them?”

Garrus huffed, remembering the last summit he’d attended. Magistrate Sparatus hadn’t even wanted to admit that the Seekers and Collectors were _real_ , let alone a flesh and blood threat to the Hierarchy. The entire meeting had dissolved into bickering and a political quagmire. ‘Red ribbon’ his father called it. It was there for a reason, though what reason Garrus often questioned. 

“At the moment my people are doing nothing,” he answered, vitriol dripping from every word. “There’s procedure for declaring war or even addressing a serious threat,” he intoned, quoting his father. “None of which turians handle expediently.” The last part had been his own contribution, and one met with disapproving subvocals and strong words from the king. 

“But you’re the prince, right?” Jane questioned, pulling him from memories of the last family blowout over the subject. “Can’t you order your people to take action? Do something? Arrange a meeting with the Council for a joint attack?”

“I wish it were that easy,” Garrus sighed. “Without my father and other leaders on board…” he shook his head sadly. “They’ll wait until the Collectors are at the Menae Gate before they do anything at this rate.”

“Maybe I can help?” Jane offered. “I’m a commander in the Alliance military, and the human disappearances have everyone on edge. If your people can point out the perpetrators, our leaders will take action, I can promise you that.”

“Maybe,” Garrus mused. “If humans were going to investigate _nidifica vespa_ then my father would want Hierarchy troops there too. Can’t appear weak,” he told her sarcastically. “But, it could work,” he said more to himself. “If humans and the Council were going to do something within our territory, then turians would _have_ to take action too.” 

For the first time in longer than he could remember, he felt hope bloom within his chest. If Jane could ensure Alliance involvement, then his father would have to push the issue with the rest of the Hierarchy leadership. Noticing the lift in his mood, Jane gave him a determined smile. 

 _She’s incredible_ , Garrus thought to himself as he grinned back at her. _Simply incredible_. 

**********

Even walking in Garrus’ shadow, as had become their routine, Jane still felt the sun’s menacing presence. The heat was somewhat abated by a cold, gnawing dread that had begun to settle into her bones the night before when Garrus had spoken about the Collectors. 

The Palaveni desert was well known for its monsters; thresher maws nested in the interior along with other murderous creatures devoid of feeling other than hunger. The krogan routinely sought them out for coming of age rituals, but these were tangible, known beasts. The horrors Garrus had described were something altogether new; nightmares bred from hell itself. 

She’d never missed her sword more than she did now and if she walked closer to Garrus’ side, occasionally brushing against his gleaming scales with her arm, he didn’t mention it. He was on edge too. His head was constantly turning, mouth slightly open as though perpetually tasting the air. 

He’d hollowed out some large nut the night before, the name of which Jane couldn’t remember or pronounce, and filled it with water before stuffing leaves into the hole at the top. He’d explained that this was Jane’s personal canteen and she needed to try and make it last because they couldn’t afford to stop for the night or deviate from their course in search of a well. 

Normally Jane would have argued that expecting her to walk all day and night under the blistering Palaveni sun and freezing moon was not only unreasonable, but cruel. Under the circumstances, however, she was willing to walk as long as necessary if it put more distance between them and the Collectors. 

She’d make the creatures pay for their torture and abductions; but later, when she was prepared, armed, and had a squad of soldiers at her back. She sensed Garrus had the same thoughts, not resisting when he would gently grip her by the shoulder or elbow to steer her further afield. 

The palms of his hands were unplated and reminded her of well-worn, warm suede. The physical contact was comforting, even if the silence had started to become oppressive. Talking was a waste of saliva though, she’d learned that as a young girl accompanying her parents on desert treks. Only speak when necessary, a conversation could be the difference between throat clenching thirst and relative ease. 

But as the shadows lengthened and darkness fell upon them, Jane fought against the urge to say something. Garrus’ posture had relaxed a fraction but they needed to keep moving. She’d never wandered the desert this long before - and certainly not without other humans to talk to and laugh with. Her exposed skin was icy cold and her feet ached and legs felt numb, but the absolute quiet was what really bothered her.  

“For a ‘sand sea’ this place is nothing like the ocean,” Jane found herself saying, unable to bite her tongue any longer. She longed for the call of birds and the rustle of leaves, the sound of water lapping against the shore or else cascading down the marble fountains of the Presidium.

The Widow Sea that bordered the Citadel was a real ocean; azure waves that extended out past the horizon so that on a cloudless day the line between heaven and water blurred, an endless expanse of blue. 

“What’s it like?”

Startled, Jane lifted her eyes from where they’d been affixed on the seeming emptiness straight ahead of her. “What’s what like?” she asked, secretly delighted Garrus was willing to distract her with menial conversation. 

“The ocean. I’ve never seen it,” he answered, a sorrowful note echoing somewhere in his chest. 

Jane felt her eyebrows raise, though she supposed this confession wasn’t that unusual. Palaven was landlocked and turians rarely ventured out of its sun choked heart.

“The Widow Sea is full of life,” Jane said, drawing on memories of the last time she’d gone snorkeling. “Out past the breakers, beneath the surface, is a coral reef; like a marine garden. There’s fish with scales that catch the light and reflect it in hues of silver and orange, emerald and amethyst. Every rock and sunken log or beam is encrusted with corals. Some sway with the water, others are bony and stand tall against the pull of the tide.” A fond smile played across her lips as she recounted the songs and clicks of dolphins, the way sea turtles flew through the kaleidoscope water and overhead gulls and terns filled the sky. 

“And the ships,” she told him. “On sunny days, sailboats fill the harbor and deep water beyond, white sails freckling the sea as thickly as stars do the sky.” She turned her gaze upward, to the jagged path of color that cut through the cosmos and the glinting stars that sparkled all around it, trapped in the ether of night but radiant all the same. 

“It sounds beautiful,” Garrus replied, a wistful sigh to his voice. 

“It is,” Jane agreed, smile fading into a frown as she focused her eyes back on the barren landscape all around them. No salty breeze tousled her hair, and the persistent feeling of being parched plagued her even when she slept. The night before she’d dreamt of her skin flaking off in crinkling pieces, turning to dust on the desert wind. ln the end, all that had remained of her was brittle, sun bleached bone, waiting to be covered by a shroud of sand. 

“The desert is full of life too, you know,” Garrus commented after a moment. 

“No it’s not,” Jane snorted. “You and I are probably the only living things for miles - if we’re lucky,” she amended. “What life does exist here is ugly and voracious.”

She felt more than heard a soft rumble from the prince and turned to see him staring at her with pierced mandibles pinched firmly to his face. “The wildlife might not be as flashy as that in the ocean, but it’s here all the same, and not all of it’s malicious.”

Jane looked at him skeptically. “The most life I’ve seen here are beetles,” she informed him. 

“Insects are still alive,” he countered. “And some are rather pretty, too, if you take the time to look. Their shells gleam like iridescent jewels in the sun; they’re living gemstones. And of course there’s snakes, and chameleons, and golden moles.”

“Golden moles?” Jane repeated. “What are those?”

Garrus hummed, a different, more soothing sound pulsing through his scintillating coils that sparked in the starlight like polished steel. “Golden moles are a type of rodent. They swim beneath the sand, shooting upwards to eat beetles and crickets. Their fur is a radiant gold that catches moonbeams and practically glows.” Garrus’ tone softened as he added “my mother used to say that they were stars trapped on earth, traipsing across the dunes instead of the sky.”

“Those… actually do sound pretty,” Jane admitted. “Do you think we’ll see any?”

“Maybe,” Garrus chuckled, drawing Jane’s attention to how close he was. She could almost feel the warmth suffusing off his scales as he glided effortlessly beside her. Her feet were merely going through the motions of walking - she felt like a zombie, or the arrow of a compass, eternally pressing north without fully knowing why.

“Garrus? If it’s not too much,” she began, considering her words, “could I… can I sit on your back? Just for a while to rest my feet?”

She heard his breath hitch before what sounded like a gentle purr left his throat. “You can ride on my back for as long as you want,” he told her, voice taking on a tender quality that had her inexplicably blushing. 

He slowed his movement until he was completely still. Jane gave him a grateful smile before clambering onto his back, hands loosely gripping his cowl. She hadn’t noticed before how soft his scales actually felt; a texture she couldn't compare to anything else other than to say it was what Garrus felt like. She gently let the exposed skin of her leg brush against him, enjoying the sensation.

“You can uh, have my cloak,” Garrus said as he started to move once more. “It can get cold, and I’ve been letting you borrow it at night anyways. So um, yeah, feel free to… take it.”

The awkwardness was new if not endearing. Jane swiftly brushed away the thought as she leaned against him to undo the clasp at his neck, pulling the rich fabric over her own chilled shoulders. 

“Thanks Garrus,” she whispered. 

A new sound floated in the air around her. A soft humming noise that vibrated up through Garrus’ body and wrapped her in a soothing blanket of calm. A lullaby of sorts. She fell into a comfortable silence as Garrus sang, distracting her from the hollow dunes that made no noise or echo. 

For the rest of the night, until the melon orange crescent of dawn colored the horizon, he continued his melody, reminding her that she wasn’t alone out here. That just perhaps, she had a friend.


	4. One Cold Night

When Garrus finally allowed them to stop for a rest it was in the shadow of a colossal rock, well into late morning. They’d collapsed in an exhausted, filthy - at least on her part - pile, and Jane had fallen asleep almost instantly, using Garrus’s smooth flank for a pillow. 

She was woken long before she was ready by a rumbling, vibrating sensation under her head. Forcing her eyes open, she was met with dazzling blue that nearly stole her breath away. Garrus gazed down at her, the cerulean lagoons of his irises swimming with a sleepy tenderness that made the empty space in her stomach fill with butterflies. 

“We have to keep moving,” he told her, voice soft. “We need to find water and somewhere more defensible to spend the night.”

Jane slowly rose to her feet with a pained groan, stretching her arms above her head in an effort to relieve the painful series of knots at her lower back. Glancing at the rock’s shadow which had moved significantly, she estimated that they’d been there for maybe two or three hours. Not enough time for her spent limbs to recover themselves, but it’d have to do. 

“Is there water nearby?” she asked Garrus as the pair moved back out into nature’s furnace. 

Garrus shifted his head, nose pointed upward and mandibles loose, tasting the breeze. “Not that I can smell, but I’m vaguely familiar with this region, there’s hidden wells honeycombed throughout the Ivory Expanse, we’ll find something by nightfall.”

Jane nodded, casting a longing look at her empty water flask. The hollowed out nut had run dry early that morning and the thought of water had been on the edge of her consciousness, if not the forefront of her mind, ever since. 

Garrus made a soft cooing noise, reminding her of a dove. When she turned to regard him, she was met with his outstretched hand holding out his flask. She stared dumbly for a moment before taking it. “Don’t you need something to drink?” she asked, hesitating before unscrewing the lid. 

“I need a lot less water than you and can wait longer,” he answered. “I’ll be alright.”

There wasn’t much left in the steel container, but she gratefully drank what there was, careful not to spill any of the precious liquid onto the scalding sand. 

“You know,” Garrus said once they’d begun their trek in earnest, chasing the sun’s shadow, “the Ivory Expanse isn’t the safest region of Palaven given the proximity to _nidifica vespa,_ but it does have the most beautiful silver fish.”

Jane nearly stopped walking at the mention of fish. “There’s fish out here?” she asked in disbelief.

“No… yes… well kind of,” he offered. “They’re actually a kind of reptile, but their legs look like fins, hence why we call them fish. They have these mating displays around sunset where the males jump in the air and flash their scales. It’s, um, it’s really pretty, I think you’d like it.”

“They sound pretty.” Jane offered though she wasn’t entirely sure from his description. “Do you think you can find them?”

Garrus’s mandibles flared out in what she’d come to recognize as a grin. “Definitely,” he told her. 

As the daylight began to wane, Jane climbed on Garrus’s back. He serenaded her with that soft, calming lullaby from the night before, steadily making his way for an open valley among the looming dunes where he’d told her there was water. 

As she sat admiring the sun glinting off his scales, she noticed that some of them appeared… dull. As though there were a film covering them. Instinctively she wanted to pick at the opaque layer, but wasn’t sure if it’d hurt Garrus, or if bringing it up might be offensive. What would she even say? _‘Looks like you’ve got a layer of dead skin?'_    

“Look,” Garrus suddenly said in a hushed voice, pointing to a nearby dune. 

Jane stared at the blank mountain of sand, unsure what Garrus was gesturing at. Then, she saw them. Silver arrows shot out of the sand, catching the last rays of daylight on scales that shone like liquid mercury. They leaped at an incredible height given their small size, pirouetting in midair. Like mirrors reflecting the sun, the light bounced from one silver fish to the next, as the area in front of them abruptly exploded in glimmering, silver flurries. 

“It’s like a snowstorm in summer,” Jane breathed, transfixed on the diminutive ballet. 

“I’ve never seen snow, but they are beautiful,” Garruss agreed, voice barely above a whisper. 

They watched the display until dusk settled over the dunes and the silver fish quieted themselves, retreating back to their tunnels before it became too cold. 

Garrus hurried to get them to the well. It was encircled with small stones to keep the sand out, a sign other turians had used this place in the not so distant past. Jane eagerly drank three servings of water from her nut canteen. Garrus, ever the gentlemen, waited for her to finish before getting something to drink for himself. 

Thirst momentarily sated and too exhausted and cold to wash off, Jane shivered as Garrus crouched near the small bundle of brush and twigs they’d managed to gather, working with the flint to start a fire. The desert wore two faces; one of blistering heat and scalding sun, the other of a cold, dead moon cut into night-flesh shining down a ghostly white onto a bitingly cold and barren landscape. 

She spared a glance at her royal companion. If Garrus was perturbed by the dramatic temperature drop he was hiding it well. His bright blue eyes were affixed on the flames that had kindled under his ministrations, the sparks dancing in his irises and making them glow like arcane fire. 

The sand around his lower body shifted as he adjusted his coils, gleaming like polished steel in the merciless moonlight. For a turian, Garrus really was strikingly handsome. _Not for a turian_ , she mentally corrected herself, _for anyone_.  

Garrus raised his head to look at her, taking in her huddled position and pinched expression as she moved to warm her chilled hands by the fire, his indigo cloak pulled close around her. “Are you still cold?” 

For such a ferocious looking creature his deep, whiskey voice seemed out of place. Especially when he addressed her in that honeyed, softer tone. Jane mentally shook her head. She had to stop thinking about him that way. 

“Yeah. It would seem desert isn’t very hospitable to humans,” she answered, rubbing her hands together in a futile attempt to warm them. “Even if  it is beautiful at times,” she added, a small smile tugging at her lips as memories of the dancing silver fish came to mind. 

Garrus watched her wordlessly before slowly gliding over, his serpentine body parting the sands like a ships’ prow on a calm sea. 

Jane leaned her head back as he came to rest directly next to her. “I might be able to help. With the cold, I mean.” 

Jane felt her brows knit together as she took in his illuminated form. Unless he was hiding blankets or more kindling in his cowl she wasn’t sure how he could help keep her warm. 

“What do you have in mind?” She asked.

Garrus made a low, rumbling purr that caused the sand grains around them to stutter. “Turians have a higher body temperature than most races,” he told her. “I can, uh, wrap my lower body around you if you stand – only if you want,” he hurried to add, hands twisting together nervously. 

Jane had never seen the self proclaimed prince so flustered but found the entire display somehow extremely… sweet? She wasn’t sure that was the correct term, but either way, if it’d prevent her teeth from chattering, she was more than comfortable with some physical contact. They’d already crossed that bridge at some point in their journey anyway, what with him allowing her to ride on his back.  

“Alright Garrus,” she said, rising to her feet and handing him back his cloak. “I’m game.”

Garrus made a low sound somewhere in his chest before moving his tail to wrap around her feet. Methodically, he pushed up onto his coils, encircling her in a shimmering, warm cocoon of smooth scales. 

Jane raised her arms above her head, resting them on top of Garrus ‘s body once he’d reached her chest. He carefully tightened his embrace until he hugged her close, but she could still breathe freely. She’d expected him to feel hard, maybe even sharp in this position. The silver spades that covered his lower body were reminiscent of armor, yet caressed her as softly and tenderly as a lover.  

Jane felt her face heat up in a blush at associating Garrus with that type of intimacy. He’d didn’t see her as attractive. He couldn’t…

“Is this better?” He asked, breaking her from her racing thoughts. 

“Yeah,” Jane answered, letting out a deep breath as warmth seeped into her bones. “This is wonderful, actually.”

A purr rippled through Garrus’ body, like a deep massage on her aching joints. She felt her eyes flutter shut just as Garrus came to align his upper body with her exposed head and arms. 

Jane opened her eyes and gave him a reassuring smile. The purr became louder, like a giant cat, as Garrus tentatively wrapped his arms around her shoulders. Jane leaned against him, relishing in the warmth. 

 _A girl could get used to this_ , she mused. _At least, I could_. 

*********

The smell had been faint at first; a mild acidic tang on the wind. He might have missed it if he weren’t already awake, watching the soft flutter of Jane’s eyelids as she slept securely within his coils. But gradually, the smell had become stronger as the owner approached and Garrus’s attention had turned to the south, eyes glinting an opalescent blue in the moonlight as he strained to find the source of the noxious odor. 

When at last he spied the dark shape hovering above the dunes, only barely illuminated by the stars, he had to force himself not to tighten his lower body and risk squeezing Jane. But they needed to do something immediately. 

“Jane,” he whispered urgently, shifting his position so she lolled forward. “Wake up Jane!”

Jane made a groaning sound that was far too loud. He hurriedly placed a finger over her mouth to stifle the noise and Jane responded by flying awake and shooting him a furious glare. 

“Seeker,” he hissed, panic seeping into his subvocals. 

She immediately froze, green eyes going wide in understanding. Trusting her to keep quiet, Garrus unwound himself from around her small frame and pointed out to where the creature was hovering, slowly making its way toward their camp. 

“We have to kill it,” Jane whispered, moving closer to him and keeping her voice low. 

Garrus nodded, relieved she’d come to the same conclusion he had. Seeker scouts traveled alone as well as in packs, but if they found something they’d return with the entire swarm. They couldn’t take any chances while still so far from Cipritine. 

“How good is your eyesight?” Jane asked. “I can barely see the thing, but I’m an excellent shot.”

He rumbled in confusion since they had no weapons to speak of, but watched as Jane unwrapped an elastic looking bracelet on her wrist, unfurling it until it formed a moderately sized band. “We call them wrist rockets,” she explained even as she arraigned the band on her arm. “They’re like a more powerful slingshot. Not strong enough to kill the thing, but if I can stun it, you can finish it off?” She looked to him for confirmation. 

He was a damn fine shot himself with a crossbow, but had no clue what this rudimentary tool of Jane’s was, and didn’t have time to try to figure it out. “We’ll have to get closer,” he answered. “I’ll be your eyes, if you can knock it out I’ll rip it in half.”

Jane snatched a few stones from around the well and then gave him a nod. 

They moved like a cohesive unit that had trained together for years, Jane resting a hand against his back as he guided them closer to the idling Seeker, careful to stay downwind. She took careful, angled steps, the sand swallowing her footfalls as readily as it did the slide of his coils. 

They dropped to their stomachs as they drew closer until they were within 30 feet of the insect-like beast. It was no larger than a black bird, with an armored shell and pointed limbs that hung loosely from its algae-green body. Jane would need a perfect hit to take it out before it could fly back to the swarm. 

Garrus moved his head so his mouth was positioned right at her shell-shaped ear. Jane adjusted the wrist rocket, fitting it with a stone and pulling back on the band. 

“A bit more to the left,” Garrus breathed, words hardly a sigh. “A fraction higher… there!”

Jane released the band and the pale stone flew like a shooting star, striking the Seeker in its mouth-parts. Garrus surged forward, talons like scythes laughing in the moonlight as he ripped the monster to shreds. 

Wasting no time, he hurried to cover the body with sand, Jane trotting over to assist him. When the eviscerated Seeker was buried so no hint of its smell lingered in the air, Garrus finally allowed himself to breath. 

“You should wash your hands,” Jane advised. 

Glancing down, he saw his talons and fingers were stained a toxic looking green. His subharmonics whirred in disgust at the sight and smell and he rushed back to the well. 

“Fill up your canteen,” he instructed, holding his hands as far away from himself as possible. Once Jane had done so, he thoroughly washed himself before glancing around once more, senses on high alert. “We need to leave. I don’t want to risk more of those things finding us.”

“You don’t need to tell me twice,” Jane responded.

They set out across the glittering sands, both eager to put as much distance between themselves and the creatures of _nidifica vespa_ as possible. 

At least he wasn’t in this alone, he mused. He’d watch Jane’s six and she’d watch him. They’d make it to safer regions soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I smell romance on the breeze =p


	5. Discoveries

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW - Sexual content at end of chapter (starting 8 paragraphs down after the break)

Over the last several days, the layer of dead skin covering Garrus’s coils had become more and more obvious. Jane had avoided asking to ride on his back for fear that her weight might hurt him or else exacerbate the issue, but it was becoming hard to ignore. 

At night, when their meager fire had shivered out of existence and she lay in the twilight realm between wakefulness and sleep she’d see him clawing at himself or else rubbing his coils along the uneven surfaces of rocks and tree trunks. 

She hadn’t wanted to say anything, thinking it might be offensive somehow, but over a week since their escape from the Seeker and it looked like Garrus was wearing an old white sock over his lower body, complete with rips and tears from where he’d scratched at it. 

“Do turians… shed?” She finally asked him as they sat around their campfire. They’d come to an oasis with a fresh water pool and Jane had bathed and was feeling as clean as she ever did out here. Garrus meanwhile looked downright dingy, his shrouded scales taking on a sallow appearance in the firelight. 

He sighed at her question, lowering his packrat skewer. “We shed the skin along our coils yearly,” he answered mildly. “Stress and weather can affect how bad the process is and how… itchy.” 

“You must be miserable.” Jane observed, thinking about their journey thus far. 

Garrus flicked out his left mandible in a gesture Jane had come to recognize as the turian version of a shrug. “I’ll live,” he said, using his mouth plates to pull another piece of meat off the stick, chewing it only a few times before swallowing. 

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Jane asked, staring at the places where the dead skin had been sheared away by Garrus’ talons. “I bet I could pull most of it off.” 

Garrus nearly choked on his food, making a series of angry hacking noises before abruptly looking at her with shocked, wide eyes. “You’d, uh…” he trailed off, a deep rumble echoing from his chest and rippling out across the sand. “That wouldn’t, um, humans don’t shed or molt,” he finished, a hand moving to rub at his neck. 

“Humans shed skin constantly,” Jane informed him, hoping she hadn’t crossed some cultural barrier with her offer. “It’s just not as obvious when we do because it happens on a smaller scale.”

She supposed dead skin was gross, but Garrus’ was just like snake skin; dry and wrinkled, the ghosts of diamonds inlaid in milky white. She used to collect discarded snake skin as a child, and while on a much grander scale, Garrus’s shedding didn’t seem so different or grotesque. 

The prince coughed into a fist, refusing to make eye contact. She was about to apologize, retract her previous statement when he turned to look at her, the oceans of his eyes so deep she wasn’t sure she could ever sound them. 

“If it wouldn’t bother you,” he began, voice uncertain, “then I’d… appreciate some help pulling it off.”

Jane smiled, happy to be useful when thus far she’d felt more like a burden, relying on Garrus to locate water and shelter every night. Dusting her hands off on her pants, she walked over to where Garrus sat coiled on the opposite side of the fire. 

“Where should I start?” she asked, looking to him. 

His mandibles twitched in the firelight, head tilting to regard her. “The um, area around my waist. If you could start there and work your way down?”

Nodding, Jane carefully began to pull at a loose piece of skin. It came sloughing off in a long, pale ribbon. Garrus held stock still as she worked to free him of his confinement, until she came to a stubborn section on his right side. 

She firmly gripped the softer hide on his waist above where his scales began to steady herself as she pulled. Garrus gasped loudly, torso going rigid as his eyes bulged and jaw dropped.

Jane tore her hands back as though she’d been burned. “Did I hurt you?”

Garrus took a moment to seemingly collect himself. “No,” he said in a voice several octaves higher than usual. Clearing his throat he gave her a look somewhere between embarrassed and… “The uh, waist is more sensitive than other places on our bodies.” He told her. “You might call it an... erogenous zone.”

Jane stood staring at him with her mouth hanging open as she processed his words. “Garrus, I am SO sorry, I didn’t mean -”

“It’s alright,” he hastened to interject. “I should have warned you that the waist is um, yeah.” He let out a winded chuckle, rubbing at the back of his neck again and looking to her in an almost shy manner. “Just startled me is all,” he said.

Jane hesitated, unsure if she should attempt to ‘help’ him any more that evening. She certainly hadn’t meant to grope or feel Garrus up, and the thought that she’d done precisely that made her want to flee and bury her head in the sand. 

“If, um, you’re okay with it,” Garrus hesitated. “Would you try again?” he asked softly. “There aren’t anymore… sensitive areas on my coils.”

“Are you sure?” Jane asked, relieved he wasn’t upset and pleased that he was willing to let her touch him again. 

He gave her the turian version of a grin, eyes looking at her fondly and making Jane feel warm for completely different reasons. “I’m sure,” he replied. 

She couldn’t say how long she worked at pulling away the soap colored skin, but when the tip of his tail was finally free and his new scales were left to glow like newborn stars, a mirror to the sky above, the ether of night had fully descended on them and her fingers were numb with cold. 

Gathering Garrus’ cloak around her she shivered in the moonlight, casting an impressed gaze at the large pile of discarded, phantom coils nearby. 

“Throw it on the fire,” Garrus advised, gliding up next to her with a new fluid grace. 

Jane grimaced at the notion, wondering how horrible burnt snake skin would smell. 

“Trust me, shed turian skin is better than any other kindling you’ll find out here,” he pressed. 

Still unsure but willing to deal with any possible odor if it meant a larger fire, Jane picked up a large piece of skin and tossed it into the smoldering embers. It was as if the air around them sucked in a deep breath and then blew it out. 

The fire erupted skyward, a yellow-white hue to the flames and a crackling sound and appearance like a thousand sparklers being ignited at once. There was a smell too - like dried cloves or nutmeg, rich and spicy, nothing like the caustic scent of burnt hair or flesh she’d been imagining. 

“Throw the rest on,” Garrus called, adding another large section to the enchanted tinder. With this new addition Jane had to take a step back as the fire blazed the impossible color of burning snow and flaming sea-foam. It was massive now, likely visible for miles, and putting off enough white-heat that Jane started to sweat under the rich cloak. 

“Is this normal?” she asked in disbelief, turning to Garrus who was still resting next to her. 

He nodded. “A turian child’s first molt is the cause of great celebration. The family will burn the old skin and the brighter the fire, the stronger the child is said to be when an adult.”

“Why does it do that though?” Jane asked, eyes returning to the dancing, shooting flames. 

“No one knows,” Garrus answered. “It just does.”

Jane moved to sit near the inferno, to better admire it. Garrus lowered himself so that his head was at the same level as hers. “Do you feel better now that all the old skin is off?” She eventually asked. 

“Much,” he sighed. “Thank you.”

Jane allowed herself to lean against him, the scales on his flank supple and bright once more. Slowly, Garrus wound a coil around her, sliding it along her lap in a sensation that reminded her of a massage and a hug all wrapped into one. 

She sank deeper into his unique embrace, eyes feeling heavy and body relaxed.  _ If this fire is any indication of his strength as a leader, he must be an incredibly powerful one _ , she mused. And then her mind was claimed by the sweet abyss of sleep.

**********

Garrus stared up into the dark night sky. The heavens’ jewelry glittered back, billions of diamonds dusted across the endless horizon. The fire had eventually burned itself out, though the air where it had lived was still warm, its distinct scent still lingering on the nighttime breeze. 

A gentle sigh drew his gaze back to the golden sands. Jane was stretched out beneath his indigo cloak, red hair fanned out behind her like a phoenix’s wing, chest rising and falling with the rhythm of her breathing. 

He’d carefully unfurled himself from around her when it had become clear he wasn’t going to be getting any sleep; memories of her hand at his waist and fingers on his sensitive, freshly released scales whispering to him whether his eyes were open or closed.

 What would she think if she suddenly woke up to find him staring at her? She already thought he was a pervert – she’d made that abundantly clear after he’d come upon her bathing and been unable to tear his eyes off her glistening, beautiful body, water trickling down her throat in rivulets to – he shook his head, heat pooling in his groin.

Something had changed between them though. She sought out his touch and not just for warmth. Even during the bone-melting hours of the day she’d sometimes take his hand just to hold it. At night, when he’d wrap himself around her as an added protection against the chill wind she’d snuggle into his arms, soft cheek resting against his neck.

She wasn’t repulsed by him, like he’d once thought she was; she’d actually helped rid him of his cloying, dead skin. Helping someone with their molt was considered an intimate affair, something typically done between lovers or family members. He didn’t have the luxury of a significant other or even servants at the moment and when Jane had offered her assistance… She had no idea of the cultural implications. But he did, and he was giving himself false hope. 

Jane turned slightly onto her side in her sleep, shirt riding up to expose the smooth skin of her lower back. Garrus bit back an aroused purr. Huffing in frustration and disgust at acting like some sort of sexual deviant, he glided off into the ebony soaked dunes until he could only just see Jane’s outline rising above the sand. 

Jane needed to rest and he… needed some relief. Twining his coils around himself, he let his mind wander to memories of the last turian woman he’d been with. She’d had exotic, ivory plates and scales with eyes like twin yellow suns. He let a finger drop down to stroke at his seam, while his other hand ran careful talons over the sensitive patch of hide beneath his fringe. 

She’d licked a heated trail along the column of his neck, hands coming to tease the inner lining of his cowl while her coils tangled with his own. 

“You like that, my Prince?” The voice in his head was notably flat, but with a sweet, smokey, teasing quality to it. 

He moaned as his plates separated and he dipped the pad of a finger inside to rub against the tip of his cock. “Mmm, is that for me?” the distinctly un-turian voice asked.

Garrus picked up the ministrations at the back of his fringe and unplated hide of his neck, though suddenly it felt like more than his own three fingers kneading at his sensitive places. 

“You’re going to feel so good,” his fantasy goddess whispered, and he swore he could feel her hot breath against his aural canal as he slid completely out of his plates, hot and heavy and desperate.

“Garrus,” the voice breathed, “I want you inside me Garrus, I want to feel you move with me, make love to me, show me how much you want me.” He panted in response, hand stroking up his shaft in a frantic movement.

Behind his closed eyelids all he saw was red and green, he could feel smooth skin against his scales, a supple body of curves and points no turian possessed pressing against him, pulling him into her, legs twinning around him, petals softer than any flower enveloping him. 

“Ah, Garrus,” the goddess moaned sinfully. “Cum for me Garrus, cum in me Garrus!”

He let out a stifled whine, his hand no longer his own as he chased his release. 

“Garrus!”

“Garrus? Garrus what are doing all the way out – ”

His eyes snapped open just as suddenly as Jane’s jaw dropped. He couldn’t make out the green forests of her irises in the soft starlight, but he felt her burning gaze pinned on the thing gripped firmly in his hand. 

“Jane!” he gasped, voice sounding strangled to his own ears. 

“Well, I guess this makes us even,” Jane muttered before coughing into her hand and turning back toward their camp. “I, uh,” she ducked her head and Garrus swore he saw a smirk. “Sorry I interrupted you,” she said, voice holding something he dared not try to name. 

He watched breathlessly as she strode back toward their belongings, a small part of him whispering that the extra sway to her hips wasn’t an accident. 


	6. Fields  of Gold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW - Sexual content after the break

It had been different between them after she’d walked up on him… well. It had been dark out, but she’d been able to see enough. Enough to know she owed Ashley an apology; turian cocks really _were_ blue. 

He was big, but not freakishly huge. If she were being honest with herself, the sight of him gripping his manhood had been a heady one that made her wonder what it might feel like to actually be with him intimately. 

Breakfast had been an unusually quiet affair, each of them focusing solely on their food, the effort to avoid eye contact more arduous than walking for miles in the blazing desert sun. Still though, she wasn’t entirely sure what to say to him. 

The stolen glances and awkward smiles on her part filled the void where conversation would have normally been, and she could almost ignore the oppressive silence of the heat drenched dunes as they set out toward the turian capital. 

But after hours of walking, the need to say or at least _do_ something to show him she wasn’t revolted by his body - quite the opposite actually - became a weight pressing down on her chest: another brick added for each minute she remained silent. 

Still unsure of how to phrase her emotions, she opted for action. Nonchalantly, she reached out and took his large, taloned hand in her own. His hide wasn’t clammy like human skin would be, and she found comfort in his reassuring, strong grip. 

Garrus’s eyes shot down to where she held his palm before the celestial blue met her own gaze. She felt more than heard him rumble out a confused sounding note. Her smile came easily and she gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.

A shy, tentative grin slowly split Garrus’s face as his mandibles flared down and out to reveal the jack-o-lantern smile that seemed typical of his species. Or at least him. 

A warm purr vibrated through their connected hands as he wrapped his fingers around hers and squeezed back. Then, he began to sing. It was different from his usual humming lullaby; there were new vocalizations and notes, some she could swear she understood. A building echo seemed to surround her, filling the air and rippling through her very bones. “ _Stay with me, be my love._ ” 

Tender as a lovers’ whisper, sincere and warm as her childhood bed, she looked up to him in wonder. Garrus’s eyes were pointed straight ahead, but he gave her an almost shy flick of his left mandible as his song continued to roll out of him like a wave, breaking gently against her with its melody. 

Even when she eventually let go of his hand in favor of riding on his back he continued his serenade, the unspoken entreaty swirling around her in the thick, hot air; " _Stay with me, be my love_." 

When sunset began to steal over the land, reds slowly seeping into burnt copper, to faded gold, with the indigo fingers of dusk gently pulling at the dying daylight, Garrus finally allowed his song to come to a gentle conclusion. 

Mind still repeating the beautiful harmony, Jane stopped her trek to raise a hand over her eyes and admire the heavens’ kaleidoscope. She noticed Garrus had paused in his effortless glide through the sands to crane his head skyward as well. 

“It’s almost like a painting, isn’t it?” Jane said, speaking for the first time that day. 

“It’s pretty,” Garrus agreed, “but I think the dunes are far lovelier.” 

Jane focused her attention back on the rolling sea of sand. The shadows and sun had come to an accord, coloring the surrounding dunes a gorgeous rose gold, the flecks of individual sand grains sparkling like crushed diamonds in nature’s treasury. 

“I’ve never seen the desert like this,” Jane admitted, turning her head to see how far the glittering sands extended. 

“Perfect conditions for _canticum harenae,”_ Garrus sighed, looking to her with a soft expression. 

“Catico harambe? What’s that?” Jane asked.

“Uh, well, it’s…” Garrus trailed off, an embarrassed sounding whine to his subvocals. “If you want,” he began, casting her a hesitant look, “I can show you. It refers to… dancing sand.”

Curiosity peaked, Jane turned to face him, only realizing how close they were when she nearly bumped into his chest. She cleared her throat, turning away so he wouldn’t notice the blush stealing across her face. Commander Shepard didn’t act like some starry-eyed teenager damn it! What was it about Garrus that made her lose all composure? 

“I’d love to see,” she replied, schooling her features into one of honest interest. 

“Right, um, stand – no sit – right here,” Garrus instructed her, gently placing a large hand on her shoulder. Jane resolutely ignored the tingling sensation that shot from the point of contact straight to a specific place between her ribs, a location that had been aching all afternoon since he’d started singing to her. 

Once seated, she looked expectantly to Garrus. He seemed almost shy about whatever he was going to show her, and she noticed his mandibles fluttering against his face in unspoken nerves. 

Then, with a fluid grace and astounding speed, Garrus moved so his lower body was in a rigid line, before shuddering so violently that he sank down into the sand, the golden blanket covering his scales completely. He then lowered his upper body to rest on his elbows.

He flicked one of his pierced mandibles out at her, the silver hoops winking in the dim light before he closed his eyes. Jane opened her mouth to ask him what she should expect, when a low, pulsing hum vibrated through the sands and up through her body. The hum became louder, with a familiar yet strangely more intimate tune accompanying it. 

The sand that had been covering Garrus’s back suddenly lept skyward at a particularly low note; an inverse rainstorm of gleaming grains that danced and twirled to the melody in a chaotic ballet of gold and white. 

_“Stay with me, be my love.”_

As the pitch to the song changed, so too did the movement of the sand. Low sounds made it pulse skyward while higher notes caused it to heave and ripple in ever widening arcs out across the ground. The message, however, stayed the same. 

_“Stay with me, be my love.”_

Jane couldn’t say how long the sand danced while Garrus sang – maybe a moment, perhaps an eternity – but the warmth that raced through her limbs and the unrelenting urge to touch her royal maestro were nearly overwhelming. 

She hardly registered rising to her feet as Garrus glided over to her, flowing across the sands as smooth and sure as water. Her hands found his and his face lowered to her own. 

“What was that?” she whispered against plated lips. 

“A question,” Garrus breathed back. “Will you stay with me? Be my love?”

Her lips against his mouth and hands woven round his neck were her reply. 

**********

The sky was stained an inky-purple but still held enough light for Jane to see clearly without the aid of a torch. The air was warm, though it no longer carried the burning sting from the afternoon sun. Perfect conditions for an evening bath in the oasis Garrus had found. 

It had taken him a moment to understand when, after forcing themselves to separate from where they’d been joined at the mouth, tongues stroking against each other and hands roaming, exploring, she’d asked if he wanted to take a bath with her. 

“With you?” he asked, seeming confused. Then realization took hold, and his eyes changed to a deeper, more sultry shade of sapphire, pupils like black moons eclipsing the blue and a purr the definition of aroused filling the air. 

“Show me,” he breathed in a husky voice. 

Taking him by the hand, she led him to the lip of the desert pool before pulling away to strip off her boots, pants, and shirt. She could feel the moon’s full attention on her skin, pale where her clothes covered her and tanned where it’d been exposed to the sun. When she’d removed her undergarments and was completely bare, she slowly turned and waded into the shallow water before looking over her shoulder to where Garrus remained motionless on the bank, transfixed.   

Smiling softly, she beckoned for him to come join her. There was a heavy pause as Garrus remained rooted to the shore before he was suddenly at her side, water lapping at his coils as his hot breath panted against her ear. 

“You’ll have to show me where to touch you,” she told him as she pulled his head down for a human style kiss. His lips weren’t as pliable as her own, feeling instead like thick rubber, but he more than compensated with his long, flexible blue tongue. 

She moaned as he tugged her closer, winding his coils around her body in a luxuriant slide of wet scales on skin, a hand running up her back to tangle in her hair. “Spirits, Jane,” he whispered as he pulled back to rub his crest against her brow. “You smell amazing.”

While an unusual complement, Jane still felt herself grow warm at the thought that even her scent was enticing to him. 

He continued to encircle her with his lower body, squeezing gently as he purred, and lifting her up until they were eye-level. Jane caressed along his plated cheeks and maxilla, fingers teasing at the silver piercings where his mandibles met his jawline. 

“Behind my crest,” he purred in a voice nearly lost to his secondary vocals, “there’s a patch of hide there that’s… extremely sensitive.”

Jane moved a hand beneath his fringe of horns, fingers stroking at the supple skin. It was softer than the rest of him, feeling almost like worn velvet. She kneaded the area, Garrus’ sharp intake of breath and near growl as his mouth shifted to her neck all the encouragement she needed to continue her ministrations. 

Remembering the night before, she moved her other hand to his waist, giving it a firm squeeze as she rocked against him. Garrus cried out something in what she assumed was his native language, before swirling his coils around her and relaxing his grip. 

Something pressed against her center, hard and slick and heavy. She moved her hand from Garrus’s waist to grip his cock, stoking from base to tip. There were soft ridges running along the underside of his curved shaft and Jane bit her lip as she imagined what they’d feel like in other, more intimate places. 

 Garrus shuddered around her before eyes like molten pools of ebony found her face. “Show me,” he panted, “where can I - where should -”

Giving his member one more pump, she took his hands from where they’d come to rest on her hips and moved them to her breasts. “My nipples are really sensitive,” she told him as she moved to continue her attentions at his cock.  

Garrus cupped her breasts before slowly running the pads of his thumbs over her pert nipples. Jane gasped, eyes fluttering shut as he carefully plucked at a nipple before lowering his head and running his thick tongue over the over. 

Her own motions at his groin became erratic under his relentless assault, and gripping his shoulders as he cradled her in his coils, she moved to align her weeping folds with his thick shaft. 

“Fuck, please, Garrus,” she whimpered, desperate for relief as she rubbed herself against him, breath hitching at how his ridges felt brushing against her clit. 

Garrus moved his head to trail a heated series of licks and nips up the column of her neck before wrapping his arms around her shoulders and shifting his lower body so the tip of his cock rested just inside her entrance. 

Jane’s legs were confined by his coils, but she was able to push her knees up and press into him, moaning as he filled her. Taking her actions for the assent they were, Garrus allowed himself to lower toward the oasis spring still cradling her, hilting himself completely. 

They clung to each other for a moment, Jane’s hair brushing against the surface of the water as her hands ran along his neck, cowl, shoulders, everywhere she could reach. 

He began to move slowly; a gentle rocking at first, barely unsheathing from her. Jane pushed herself against him more forcefully, speeding up the rhythm of their intimate tempo. His coils shifted as he held her tighter above the water and began to thrust in earnest. 

There was an additional sensation; his cock vibrated with the deep, low purrs and groans he was making in his subvocals. He built up a refrain of pulling nearly entirely out of her before slamming back in, cock rippling against her inner walls as she gasped and clung to him. It was nearly overwhelming how perfect he felt, how amazing and sensual and _right_. 

Not wanting to merely lie back while he worked his ministrations onto a symphony of pleasure that would eventually render her boneless, Jane managed to free her legs between two of his coils and wrap them around him, squeezing hard as she moved with him, the sound of wet skin and scales and choked off breath filling the night air. 

As her completion began to crest over her like an oceanic roller pulling back from the shore and gathering momentum before breaking, Garrus started to squeeze her so tightly that she saw stars behind her eyelids. “Too tight,” she gasped, hands tugging on his mandibles. “Too tight!”

He immediately relaxed his grip lifting his head from where it had been buried in the crook of her neck to look at her worriedly. “Are you -”

“So good!” she gasped, as her orgasm began to wash over her. “Don’t stop, I’m close Garrus, please -”

Jane had never considered herself particularly loud when it came to bedroom activities. But she was unashamed to admit the scream of ecstasy that poured from her lungs as her entire body was consumed in tingling, liquid fire was the loudest and most enthusiastic response she’d ever had to sex. 

Garrus held her close as he thrust into her hard and deep three more times before a low moan that made the water pulse and ripple around them ripped from his body. He pulled out of her slightly as his cock twitched, filling her with his seed. 

He pushed back inside her slick channel, thrusts slow and deep, drawing out the last of their pleasure. Jane seized his face, kissing him roughly, senses overwhelmed by the taste of clove and nutmeg on his tongue, the feel of him as he continued to move inside her and all around her while his coils encircled her body.

“Be my love,” she whispered in labored breaths. 

He gripped her tightly, words lost to him as his song crescendoed out into the water and surrounding fields of golden sand. 

_“My love.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone was wondering where I pulled inspiration for Garrus's song (which will be explained more fully next chapter) it's from "Fields of Gold" by Sting.


	7. The Plan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW - First half of the chapter contains sexual content 
> 
> Aeternum Song – Loosely translates to “heart song,” and is a type of vocalization turians make for their romantic partners. The song is specific to the mate, if a turian has more than one partner in a lifetime, the new song will vary drastically.
> 
> Nitatis – A term used to describe the act of knotting. Translates to “becoming one” since the partners are tied together for up to thirty minutes.
> 
> Nox- A bat-like creature about the size of a domestic cat, used to relay messages across the desert.

Consciousness came to him slowly, whispering gently that it was time to wake up. But another part of his mind called for him to sleep forever, to hold his love in his arms, feel her breath fanning out against his neck and luxuriate in the lingering sensations from the night before. Her body was still warm from their enthusiastic coupling; scales and skin moving together as their bodies pulsed and heaved to an unheard rhythm older than time immortal. 

The desire to see her face was what truly inspired him to open his eyes. In the wavering, new light of dawn, Jane’s hair burned a cold inferno of crimson; a lava flow rendered touchable and soft. Garrus gently tucked a stray lock behind her ear. She sighed, pressing herself deeper into his embrace before her eyes blinked open, and he was met with beautiful, swirling jade. 

“Hey,” he breathed, voice still thick with sleep. 

“Hey,” she answered, a tender smile stealing across her face. 

They took a moment staring at each other; eyes tracing the contours and curves of face, fringe, hair, plates and lips. Then Jane raised a hand and cupping the back of his head pulled him down into a human style kiss. His tongue swept out and licked at her lips in silent question. Her mouth opened and he lost himself in her. 

When they finally pulled back for air his _aeternum song_ soared into the cool morning breeze all around them, proclaiming his love and devotion in a language beyond words or syllables.  

“What is that?” Jane asked wonderingly, hands teasing at his pierced mandibles as she spoke. “That song, it’s different from what you’ve sung before.”  

“It’s not a song, exactly,” he replied, allowing his eyelids to flutter shut. “It’s more giving voice to an emotion. In this case telling you I… I love you.” He opened his eyes and his vision swam with the most beautiful woman in all of creation. 

He wondered, not for the first time, how he’d gotten so lucky. Of all the twists of time and fate that may have kept them apart, something had aligned and he’d found her. It was as though he’d regrown a missing limb he never knew he’d lost; he was complete when they were together. 

Jane answered him with action, as was generally her way. Hands crept behind his fringe to massage the sensitive patch of hide there, while lips like summer berries sucked on his mandible prongs and her body rolled against him. 

His mouth fell open in a stolen gasp before he moved to attend to her own pleasure points. Pads of fingers stroked over pert nipples before moving lower as he relaxed his coils, running the back of a talon along her wet slit. 

An idea came to him, and gently lifting her chin with a hand he gazed into her green rimmed eyes, pupils like black pools of midnight staring back at him. “Jane,” he asked, “do humans… use their mouths as a type of foreplay?”

“How do you mean?” she asked, tilting her head as her chest rose and fell with deep breaths. “Like oral?” Her eyes glinted with understanding. “Would you like me to suck on your -“

“No, um, actually, I was wondering if I could try something with you?” he interrupted. 

Jane’s eyes widened as she pulled her lower lip between her teeth. “I’m definitely not going to say no, if you’re offering,” she told him. 

Garrus flared out his mandibles in a grin before angling his body more parallel to the ground, mindful to keep Jane safely wrapped in his coils and off the cloying, clinging sand. He then moved his upper body so that his face was aligned with her freed thighs. 

Her scent was nearly overpowering, and glancing up to her face once more as she watched him, he slowly dragged his tongue along her center. She tasted like eucalyptus smelled; earthy and sharp with a slightly sour tang. He purred, placing his hands on her legs to spread them further apart. 

He pushed his tongue inside her, feeling her constrict around him as his smooth upper mouth plate rubbed against the sensitive bud at her entrance. He began to set a pace of deep licks, followed by pressing inside her and curling his tongue against a rough patch that had Jane whimpering his name and digging her blunt nails into his coils. 

She pressed her hips against his mouth, body quivering as her completion drew near. Garrus picked up the speed of his ministrations, fucking her with his tongue as Jane sputtered and gasped until her body went rigid as though struck by lightning and she choked out a yell.

He lifted his face, mouth plates glistening with her fluids to admire Jane’s limp body resting in his coils, breathing slowly returning to normal.    

“Feel good?” he asked, already knowing the answer. 

Jane huffed, lifting her head and reaching for him. His _aeternum song_ crescendoed as she pulled him into a passionate kiss. “That tongue of yours is incredible,” she murmured against his plated lips. 

Garrus hummed, swirling his coils to align his erect cock with her sodden folds. “I might have some other ideas you’d like,” he teased, resting the tip of member at her entrance. 

“Show me,” Jane answered, legs coming to wrap around him, pulling him into her with a hiss, squeezing hard. 

He mentally forced himself not to reciprocate. Heavy, squeezing embraces with the lower body were standard intimacy for his people, but he’d nearly suffocated Jane the night before and wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. 

Instead, Garrus focused on the sensation of being locked together in the most intimate expression of love and trust. He felt a sense of peace flood his veins, even as his body sang with the euphoria of being held in her silken embrace.

His movements were slow as honey, deep and lingering as he tried to commit the moment to memory; her taste, how she felt, her words. Sweet oblivion was hard to remember though and when every second together made him feel…

“ _I love you.”_ His subvocals hummed the sentiment in an endless chorus he wasn’t sure she fully understood. But when she moaned into his mouth, small hands running passionately along his mandibles, thumbs tracing the silver rings at his maxilla, he could feel the sentiment returned. 

Their bodies grew hot as they swayed together once more, finding perfection in their imperfections, a fit to broken parts. Her walls fluttered around him, drawing him in with every stroke until liquid fire raced through his blood and the knot at the base of his cock began to swell. 

”Jane,” he panted, voice ragged with a desperate edge, “can I knot with you?”

“Knot?” she gasped as she began to grind against him.

“Tie with you, mmm, cum inside you, stay with you?” He wasn’t sure his words were fully translating, but Jane grabbed his head, kissing him forcefully before moaning out "please" in a tone he wasn’t about to disobey. 

Speeding up his pace and adding the vibrating sensation to his movements she’d seemed to enjoy last night, Jane sobbed out in pleasure, body jerking against him in ecstasy. He followed her soon after, burying himself as deep as he could, feeling the base of his cock twitch and expand, locking them together. 

The more poetic of his people referred to the act as _nitartis,_ or becoming one. It was the most intimate expression of love and trust you could give to a partner and while he’d initially wondered if it were even possible between he and Jane, somehow, a part of him had always known he’d be able to share this with her. 

They held each other until skin and scales cooled. Then, Jane tried to move. He instinctively curled his tail and lower body around her, keeping her anchored against him. “We’re knotted,” he advised when she gave him a confused look. “My uh,” he cleared his throat, suddenly wondering if this had been such a wise idea after all. “The base of my cock is swollen, we’re tied together for the next 20 minutes or so. It’s um, it’s considered an act of deep trust and devotion.”

“So, we’re actually stuck together?” Jane questioned. “At the _crotch_?”

Garrus felt himself deflate. This had been a terrible idea. “Yeah…” He rubbed at the back of his neck feeling more embarrassed than he had in years. “It’s um, sorry, it was stupid, I didn’t mean -”

A tender hand at his cheek forced him to make eye contact. “I’m not mad,” Jane said in a soft voice. “I just didn’t fully understand what you meant when you asked.” She rubbed against him, making him groan low in his throat. “There’s going to be cultural differences we’ll have to work through, but honestly, this is one I don’t really mind.”

She pressed a sweet kiss to his mouth. “I love you too Garrus,” she whispered. And his world was complete again 

**********

The days seemed more bearable recently; the sun not so hot, the sand not as coarse. The nights, too, wore a familiar cloak of comfort. She and Garrus would make camp, have water and some meat if he could catch it and then make love under the soft crystal gaze of the stars. She’d fall asleep wrapped up in him as he sang her his love song and wake to the feel of sunlight and gentle talons caressing her skin. 

This wasn’t some lovers’ paradise though; a real threat pursued them and haunted the camel trains and caravans of the desert roads. She’d begun to formulate a plan soon after escaping the Seeker and learning about their hive in the obliterated desert lake. 

“We’ll need a team,” she told Garrus as they pressed into rockier, less arid terrain. “If we plan to storm the Collector base I want the best the Alliance - and Council - has to offer at my back.”

He rumbled in agreement. “We might need two teams,” he suggested. “Very little is known about what lies at the bottom of the Seeker pit, but old stories tell of a colossal cavern that splits off in two directions.”

“Two teams then,” Jane nodded. “Comprised of both Council and Hierarchy races.” She already had a short list of people she wanted to bring with her; Miranda Lawson, Kasumi Goto, Liara T’Soni. The Matriarchy might even send a Justicar to assist. The salarians would certainly send a researcher or two and she doubted the krogan clan leader would pass up sending someone. 

“There’s a few people I’d like to have with me,” Garrus said as though reading her mind. “I’ll talk to the drell ambassador too, see if she’d like to send a representative.”

Jane’s brow quirked at the mention of the drell. While also a race born to the desert, they preferred the mountain ranges that straddled the sun bleached dunes and great Tribian Sea, carving out elaborate cities into the cliff faces with domed roofs arching into the living rock. 

Humans often compared them to monks in terms of their chosen life-style and adherence to religious beliefs, but they were also cunning warriors. They refused to join either the Council or Hierarchy, preferring to remain neutrals to any animosity, cloistered in their craggy fortresses, descending like murderous wraiths if threatened. 

“Would the drell get involved?” Jane asked. “I thought they shunned violence except in defense of themselves or their cities?”

“The Seekers and Collectors are a threat to all life,” Garrus replied. “The drell know that as well as the turians - they’ve lost people to that infernal pit of darkness too.”

“Having drell assistance would be great,” Jane agreed. “Those wings of theirs let them glide on thermals, might be useful where we’re headed.” Images of subterranean volcanoes and scorching winds filled her mind's eye. She had no idea what they’d find, but any help was welcome. 

“And you can convince your father to send a team to work with whoever the council sends?” She wanted to confirm. 

“We’ll send out a _nox_ as soon as we reach Cipritine,” Garrus said. “You can inform your people of the Collector threat and if the response is that the Council will send an expedition, I’m positive my father will do the same.”

“A _nox?_ Do you mean a raven?” Jane paused, hand still gripping Garrus’ and causing him to stop too. 

“Ravens couldn’t fly for long in the Palaveni heat,” Garrus answered, giving her hand a soft squeeze. “ _Nox_ can fly all night and then burrow under the sand or roost under shrubs for the hottest part of the day.”

“So, they’re like bats?” 

“Not… exactly. I’ll show you when we reach Cipritine. I think you’ll find them interesting.” He resumed his glide and Jane picked up her own pace. 

“How far away is Cipritine?” she questioned, noticing more scrub and even a whisper of green foliage from among the rocks. “It feels like the topography has changed over the last two days.”

“If we make good time, we should reach the Menae Gate by tomorrow evening,” Garrus informed her.  

She squeezed his hand again as her eyes focused on the horizon and shapes of mountains in the distance; his ancestral home and a new challenge she needed to be ready for.


	8. Cipritine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amicae – the turian version of a girlfriend or exclusive significant other.
> 
> Sorden mos – A term for lowly, craven cowards of the worst variety.
> 
> Nox- A bat-like creature about the size of a domestic cat, used to relay messages across the desert.

The Trebian Mountains were unmistakable as they jutted high above the sand sea like the spinal column of a long dead behemoth. Blasted by wind and sand, they stood bone white and barren, jagged spires crowing their desolate peaks. 

This imposing fortress of rock and shadow marked the entrance to Cipritine, for those who knew where to look. Garrus rumbled encouragingly to Jane who had stopped to stare at the looming mountains. He wasn’t sure what she saw when she looked at them, but he saw home, and good food and family. She’d see that too, he hoped, as he picked up his pace, eager to be within the silver chambers once more, embraced by luminous starlight even far beneath the earth. 

“You’ll like the city,” he told her, as they followed the mountain spines west toward the Menae Gate. “There’s subterranean atriums filled with gardens of crystal; orange, indigo, and blues, all in different formations. They catch the light from reflective mirrors and glow with an internal radiance all their own. And the palace! The design is one of overlaid arches, with motifs all along the outer wall…” He tailed off noticing Jane had stopped walking. 

“The turian people,” she began hesitantly. “Will they hate me? Humanity hasn’t always had the best relationship with your race.”

Garrus felt his heart strain against ribs, aching to comfort his love. He glided over, taking her small hand in his and pressing a gentle nip to her wrist. “Not everyone will be thrilled to have a human in our midst,” he admitted. “But I think more people will be curious about you as opposed to hostile. And besides,” he flashed her a flared mandible grin, “you’re a guest of the prince. That alone will intrigue the populace.”

“A guest, hmm?” Jane’s posture straightened from its hunched position into that of the proud commander he knew and loved. “Is that all?’

Garrus tugged her into his waiting arms, a purr in his vocals as he answered, “and the love of my life, my rain, and if I’m lucky, one day, my future mate.”

Jane’s response was to rear up on her toes, hands cupping his face as she pulled him into a heated kiss that had heat pooling in his belly at the promise of her passion. Memories of sensation flickered to life in his mind; skin on scales, unfurling petals, a chorus of sighs and moans. 

He forced himself to pull away, breath coming out in hot pants as he attempted to compose himself. The forest green of Jane’s irises was nearly consumed by ebony pupils blown wide in lust and the sight had him shaking his head, mentally demanding his plates stay shut. 

There would be time for that later. In his own royal chambers, on soft pillows and linen. But for now, they still had a ways to travel before nightfall. 

Taking her by the hand, they pressed on until the sand became heavier with rock and debris, and an arched, carved gateway could be seen leading into the mountain face. Garrus took the lead as two guards in copper latticed armor rose from the sands, shields held in one hand, long spears in the other. 

He recognized Corinthus immediately, the man's eyes like smelted gold pouring over Jane before turning to Garrus. 

“Your highness,” he bowed, though his weapon remained raised. “We had feared you were lost.”

“At ease, General,” Garrus admonished, wondering why someone of Corinthus’ rank was on guard duty. “Stories of my demise were unfounded - as were the circumstances,” he added with a snarl, thoughts turning to Sidonis for the first time in weeks. 

The older man relaxed a fraction but his companion was fixated on Jane, a warning rattle to his tail. “Sire, is this a prisoner?” the other man queried. 

Garrus made a point to wrap an arm familiarly over Jane’s shoulders. “This is Commander Jane Shepard,” he informed them. “She is a guest of the Hierarchy and…” he struggled to remember the term Jane had used the night before when they were discussing their relationship. “My girlfriend,” he stated proudly, watching confusion and surprise dance across the other turians’ faces. 

 _This will work_ , he assured Jane silently with a gentle squeeze. _We’ll make it work._  

“Girlfriend?” Corinthus asked, the word sounding thick and heavy on his tongue. 

“My _amicae,”_ Garrus amended for their others’ benefit. 

The younger soldier looked as though his jaw was about to slip from his face, while Corinthus’ eyes merely went wide as twin moons at the proclamation. 

“I need to speak with my father at once,” Garrus informed the General. “The Seekers and Collectors are on the prowl and for once we might not be alone in combating them. Additionally, I require Captain Sidnois’ presence for a meeting with my father and I’d like you to be present as well,” he nodded to Corinthus, holding back the growl at the taste of the traitor’s name still burning in his mouth. 

The older turian rumbled in acknowledgment to the order, facial plates schooled into that of a stoic warrior once more. “I will send word to the king immediately, your highness,” he said with a polite bow. “However, Captain Sidnois is still missing. We have had scouts out looking for him but many believe he is dead.”

Garrus bit out a savage note of discord that harkened back to primitive campfires and disputes handled with talon and maw. “That _sorden mos_ betrayed me and left my guard to be butchered and me along with them!” he snarled, tail scales rattling in fury. “If that pathetic waste shows his face here he is to be treated as the murderous traitor he is, for crimes against the Cipritine throne and Hierarchy people!”

Both Corinthus and the younger soldier barred their teeth as they dipped their heads in understanding, the gateway and surrounding sands soaking up their enraged vocals before tossing them out to echo sanguine in the violet shadows of evening. 

Giving Jane’s hand a tug, Garrus led her through the entryway, into a world lit by the soft glow of opaque and milk colored stalactites. Their path was worn firm from the slide of countless scaled bodies over the millennia of its use, and as the tunnel widened and entered into the grand central chamber of Cipritine proper, Garrus felt his anger subsiding. 

The caverns sang with the vocals and speech of his people, walls reflecting the gentle orange light from the massive chandelier crystal that dominated the ceiling. Delicate, filament like structures jutted out from the main body of the formation, glowing the ethereal colors of sunset and cascading down the rock in rainbow waterfalls and rivulets of liquid light.  

Jane gripped his hand tighter as they made their way down the promenade, ambient conversations suddenly dying off around them as eyes focused on the human with hair like a pyroclastic lava flow and fingers interlaced with their prince’s.

Garrus softly purred, reassuring Jane she was alright. The subvocal comments were blessedly beyond her hearing range, and varied from shock, to curiosity, to anger, to intrigue. He didn’t deviate from his course as he led her toward the palace. The drell had said it looked like a cathedral akin to those built by the Council races. Either way it was home. 

As soon as the colossal desert glass doors shut behind them, he allowed himself to sigh in relief. Several servants immediately rushed over and Garrus began to mentally calculate his next actions. 

“Haifa, this is Commander Jane Shepard of the Alliance,” he informed the older of the two women who’d come to meet them. “She is my _amicae,_ and I expect she be treated as such,” he went on, deciding that the romantic implication would hold more weight then if he’d merely introduced Jane as a royal guest. “She needs to relay a message to her people immediately, take her to the _nox_ den and then my personal chambers so that she can properly wash. She’ll need new clothes as well - see if we have anything suited for a drell, that ought to work fine.” He glanced to Jane who nodded in agreement.

“Of course your highness,” Haifa responded, dipping her head before turning a set of magenta colored eyes to Jane. “Lady Shepard, please follow me, I’ll escort you to the _nox_ den.”

Jane had opened her mouth - probably to protest at the title of ‘Lady Shepard' - but quickly closed it at the mention of the _nox. “_ Thank you,” she replied instead, dipping her head to Haifa in a show of respect. 

Deciding he didn’t give a damn about custom or decorum, Garrus leaned down to gently press his crest to Jane’s brow in a show of affection before angling his head and giving her his best approximation of a human kiss. 

She returned the gesture with a hum of pleasure before stepping back toward a stunned looking Haifa. Garrus nodded to his servant who quickly composed herself and beckoned Jane to follow. 

Once they’d disappeared down the hall, Garrus turned to Fulvia, who was looking at him expectantly. “I need to speak with my father at once,” he told her. 

The ebony plated woman bowed her head, before gesturing for him to follow her up the winding, sandstone ramp which led to the second floor of the palace and his father’s study. _Of course he’s in there_ , Garrus mused. King Castis spent more time in his study than any other place in the palace. His proclivity for the space had become even more pronounced after the passing of Garrus’s mother. 

‘ _He’s trying not to dwell on her death, or else he’d be overcome with grief,_ ’ his sister had told him. _‘Being in his chambers alone is overwhelming for him now._ ’ Garrus had only nodded. Solana and their father always seemed to have a special bond. Garrus was usually left as an outsider looking through a window in on them. He’d had his mother though, and he supposed in fairness Solana should have their father. 

“Garrus.” His father almost sounded relieved as he glided over polished marble to meet his son at the doorway. “When the scouts reported finding your guard murdered we had feared the worst.”

Castis made no move to embrace his son or else give any physical display of affection. His subharmonics were warm, however, and Garrus decided to focus on that. “I was betrayed by Captain Sidonis,” he replied bitterly, hands balling into fists at his side. “He used a sandstorm as a diversion before he and his followers attacked, ditching us near a human caravan.” His vocals drifted into dismay as he pictured his felled escort. They’d been good soldiers - good people. _His_ people. He’d failed to protect them. 

“Another ploy to weaken the throne, hmm,” his father said, mandibles pinched tightly to his face in unspoken rage. “We’ve had patrols out looking for him - and you - when your bodies weren’t recovered. I have it on good authority that the former Captain is hiding near _nidifica vespa,_ using the Collectors as a deterrent to capture.”

At the mention of the Collectors, Garrus started to bring up he and Jane’s plan, only to be cut off by the king. “You didn’t return to us alone,” his father stated bluntly. “There’s a human woman with you, and if I’m to believe what I’ve heard, you’re in a romantic entanglement with her?”

Garrus held back an exasperated sigh. Of course his father already knew. The streets and towers of Cipritine were probably buzzing with that bit of gossip. “Commander Jane Shepard is my _amicae,”_ he acknowledged. “I’m not ashamed of her,” he added, straightening his back and pointing his gaze into the unwavering bronze stare being leveled at him. 

His father did sigh, eyes closing and an ivory plated hand coming to rub at his nose plates. “Garrus, you must surely realize this is a passing fancy. Once she’s reunited with her people she’ll seek out something… closer to home.” Castis sighed again, shaking his head in disappointment - a gesture Garrus had become all too familiar with during his childhood. “Do as you will, whom you choose as your bed partner is not my primary concern, just don’t attach significance where there is none.”

Garrus’s tail rattled in irritation as his vocals rumbled out in aggravation and anger. “You don’t even know her! You haven’t even met her, and you’re so willing to dismiss her and her feelings?” He forced himself to take a calming breath. Shouting matches with his father rarely went anywhere, and right now, he needed the man to listen and take him seriously. 

“You’re wrong about Jane,” he stated bluntly. “But there’s more pressing concerns at the moment. The Seekers are on the move and attacking Council camel trains at an increased rate. There’s something we can do though, to stop them permanently.”

**********

She’d been picturing bats. Creatures who flew at night and roosted in caves during the day. But, while the wings were similar, these were decidedly different animals all together. 

The _nox_ den Garrus’s servant had taken her to was down a dank, narrow passageway that smelled faintly of ammonia and something else she couldn’t place. But for the white and indigo crystals that lined the walls and glowed softly to light the way, the room they’d entered was obsidian black - the very guts of the earth. 

Above them, clinging to the ceiling and making high-pitched squeaks and whines were animals the size of a domestic house cat. However, instead of fur, they had russet colored, overlapping plates, not unlike a pangolin. Their heads were spade shaped and looked meant to burrow while their bodies were almost serpentine, with four tiny feet, that looked useless for anything other than latching onto stone walls. 

Jane might have laughed at how ridiculous they appeared, but when Haifa summoned one to her with a series of clicks and whistles, Jane was actually able to get a glimpse of the eyes; an onyx fire of hunger burned within slitted pupils, and spoke of a predator who hunted prey far larger than itself. 

Jane frown, but held out the scroll she’d written out prior to entering the den. Haifa affixed it to the _nox’s_ back by way of leather harness before carrying the animal back out the hallway they’d used and up a ramp to a porthole shaped window. Clicking to the beast, Haifa held it to the window which led to the open sky. With a series of powerful flaps the _nox_ disappeared into the inky night air. 

“If you’ll come with me, my lady, I’ll show you to the prince’s chambers. I’ve already sent for the tub to be filled so that you may take a bath,” the turian woman said softly, drawing Jane’s attention from the now empty window. 

“You can call me Shepard,” Jane advised as the pair wound their way up another coiled ramp. “Or Commander, if you prefer.”

“You’re my prince’s _amicae,”_ Haifa responded with what looked like a sly flair of her mandibles. “He’s never had one of those before - at least that he brought back to the palace. I’d prefer to call you Lady Shepard.”

Relegating herself to the fact she wouldn’t win this argument Jane followed along quietly until the pair passed through a set of clouded glass doors and into an opulent room overflowing with pillows, silks, and linens. 

The chamber was lit by what looked like a wall of salt crystals, which pulsed calming hues of violet and seemed to be emitting a quiet, chiming sound that instantly had Jane feeling relaxed.

If you’ll come this way my lady,” Haifa said with a nod, leading her into a smaller side chamber which was clearly a washroom complete with a colossal sunken bathtub full of bubbles that smelled like jasmine and wild rose. “Please feel free to take a bath, I will find you something to wear.”

“Thank you,” Jane muttered, eyes focused on the grandiose tub that seemed far too fancy for the likes of her. 

Haifa retreated, leaving her alone in Garrus’s royal bedroom. For some reason, it was only now that his title and position of ‘prince’ truly hit home. What was he doing with someone like her? Sure, her service record was impressive, but shouldn’t he have a princess?

Shaking her head at the self deprecating thoughts, Jane disrobed out of her worn, stained clothing and stepped down into the warm water of the tub. It was made from some type of marble or stone she didn’t recognize, though the color and shine reminded her of the inside of an abalone shell.

Still feeling out of place, Jane focused on the sounds from the salt wall, watching the light ripple out over the spume of scented bubbles. She lost herself in the sound and almost jumped when Garrus suddenly appeared. 

“Join me?” she asked him, gesturing to the bathtub. 

She heard his soft purr before he slipped into the basin and arranged himself so that his upper body was hugging her while the rest of him lay submerged. They sat together basking in the feeling of clean and safe before Garrus finally spoke. 

“I talked to my father,” he told her, a taloned finger coming to brush a lock of hair behind her ear. “It took some convincing, but if your king Stephen is willing to send a team to _nidifica vespa,_ then we’ll do the same.”

“That’s great news,” Jane replied, turning to look him in the face. “We can finally put an end to the Collectors and Seekers once and for all.”

“The only issue,” Garrus said, gently cupping her cheek with a large hand, “is _how_ we destroy them.”  

“I think I might have an idea there,” Jane answered, moving so that she could wrap her arms around his neck. “Want to hear it?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the cliff-hanger, but I promise all will be revealed soon =D


	9. A Suicide Mission

It had taken nearly a week for the Council to send an envoy to Cipritine. Comprised of humans, asari, krogan, and salarians, the newcomers were as spellbound by the subterranean city as Jane had been; slack jawed and wide eyed, unable to spin quickly enough to take it all in. 

There was no time to waste on tours and cultural exploration though; every moment spent was one the creatures of _nidifica vespa_ were using to swarm caravans and unwary travelers. A sense of urgency pervaded the air as the Council races, drell, and turians met in one of the large, gilded rooms of the palace. 

They had all listened quietly as Jane had laid out her plan - storm the Collector hive and burn it to smoldering, sticky ash. But once she’d finished talking King Castis had been the first to disagree. 

“It’s a suicide mission,” the turian monarch declared. He leaned forward onto the large, hexagonal table carved from an enormous piece of garnet that dominated the room; the reddest black standing out in stark contrast to his ivory plates. “This is no plan - it’s a guaranteed trip to the spirits.”

“Only for cowards,” Grunt, the krogan representative growled. “This is a worthy quest and foe. I’ll join you Shepard,” he said with a nod. 

“The theory is sound,” Liara conceded, “but there are still many variables to account for; the hive is said to be pitch black with low oxygen, torches will only cast a sickly light in that environment and will be little use in kindling an inferno.”

“You would think,”came an authoritative, smokey voice, “that an answer to the lighting and conflagration issues might be held by a species who lives underground. Who has an intimate relationship with the shadows.” 

If Tim had a surname, no one knew it or cared to inquire. The older human with eyes that burned like fire trapped in glaciers took a drag of his cigarette before looking pointedly at Garrus’s father. 

“I don’t like your tone,” Castis replied, mandibles pinched to his face in what Jane could easily recognize as irritation. “Or the insinuation that my people are holding back critical information.”

Tim rose to his feet, black robes trailing the sandstone floor as he approached the turian king, craning his neck upward to make eye contact. “You _are_ withholding information. What, pray tell, allows these crystals to shine so far from any sunlight?” He made a sweeping gesture to the glowing crimson and orange crystals that lined the walls and hung from the ceiling in an ornate chandelier arrangement. “Surely they would be adequate to light the way inside this hive.” He took another pull from his cigarette, blowing a perfect smoke ring into Castis’s face. “The real question is, are you willing to share turian innovation with outsiders.”

The king’s tail gave a minute shake, not enough to make any real noise but enough to let his feelings on the matter be abundantly clear. 

“We can supply star crystals,” Garrus interceded before his father could reply. “But they only glow, they won’t ignite into flame.”

“Shed turian skin,” Jane said suddenly, drawing everyone’s attention. “Even added to a weak fire, it’ll burn with enough intensity to incinerate whatever chamber we light it in. It’ll take a lot of it though,” she added, casting a glance to Garrus. 

“Yes, turian skin is itself flame trapped in scale,” the older drell representative, Thane, stated thoughtfully, onyx eyes shining from beneath the hood of his robe. As he moved his hands to his mouth in contemplation, his rich, scarlet covering with black details shifted, revealing the lily gold flaps of skin that ran from is wrist down to his shins and allowed his race the ability to glide. 

“For the type of inferno we’re discussing, it would take hundreds of skins,” the other drell, Feron, said looking to Castis. “Turians don’t generally keep their discarded scales, customarily they are burned by the owner after shedding. Does a store of these exist somewhere?”

All eyes turned to the king, who had been notably silent during the discussion. “There is no store of discarded scales,” he eventually said, a sigh to his duel-toned voice. “But, Cipritine is home to thousands - if I decree any newly shed skins are to be brought to the palace as a matter of safety to the Hierarchy then we can amass the quantity you’re discussing within a few days. If I extend that edict to the nearby colonies, perhaps your quota can be filled even sooner.”

“Settled!” Mordin declared. “Will use crystals to light way inside hive and skins to ignite and destroy it once central chamber is discovered.”

“These Seeker swarms,” Samara began, “they will be harder to eradicate than the Collectors given their size and numbers.”

“Nothing a mage can’t handle,” Miranda replied coolly. “Between the two of us we can create barriers to keep the smaller creatures at bay while the rest of the team focuses on the Collectors.”   

“It’s decided then,” Tim said with an air of finality. “A team of Council, drell, and turian members will storm the hive and destroy it. Unless his majesty has another thought?” The question came out as condescending as it was intended, but Captain Anderson thankfully chose that moment to intercede. 

“Know your place,” he instructed Tim. “We are guests here and you will show the king the respect he is due.”

Tim eyed Castis and while not apologizing, did manage to leave the room without further comment. The rest of the congregation followed, trickling out in pairs or small groups until only Jane, Garrus, and the Captain remained. 

“The king is right, you know,” Anderson said once the last footsteps had faded down the hall. “This is a suicide mission, plan or no plan. The chances of your return aren’t high.”

“Are they ever?” Jane asked, shifting her weight to her left foot, the white and blue drell robes she’d been given slipping down her shoulders, not designed for a human to wear. “We’re soldiers, the odds are usually against us.” She squared her shoulders, eyes turning to verdant arrow heads. “If we don’t do this, more civilians - from all races - are going to be taken, mutilated and left to bleach in the desert sun. We have to act. I’m willing to take the risk, the others are too. There is no other way.”

Anderson lowered his head, almond eyes dimming in the soft glow of the crystals before he raised them to regard Jane and Garrus. “You always seem to find a way to beat the odds,” he told Jane. “Best of luck to you, Commander. Your highness,” he nodded to Garrus before following the path the rest had taken. 

“You believe we can do this, don’t you?” Jane asked Garrus, needing his reassurance as doubt crept into her mind. “You think we can destroy the hive and still escape?”

Garrus made a soft purr, moving to wrap an arm around her exposed shoulders. “We survived an attempted coupe, weeks traversing the Palaveni desert, and pursuing Seekers. If anyone can survive this, it’s us.”

His confidence was infectious and Jane leaned against his warm side, basking in his company. What would happen once the Collector hive was destroyed? Could she really stay here, with him? She’d been given the impression that while Castis tolerated her presence, he didn’t precisely support her relationship with his son. Would he send her back to the Citadel once their task was complete? She pushed away the invading thoughts. One thing at a time. First, they’d burn that writhing pit of demonic bugs to ash, then they’d discuss the future of their relationship. 

Jane wrapped an arm around Garrus, allowing her hand to rest on his sensitive waist. An invitation; if they were about to embark on a suicide mission shouldn’t they steal a few moments away for themselves?

Garrus’s purr lowered several octaves until it was nearly below her hearing range, but pulsed through her hand and along her skin in a heady rhythm. He lowered his head, adorned in a gleaming silver crown with a lapis lazuli stone engulfed by a three-headed serpent affixed in the middle to gently press it to her brow. 

“My chambers?” he breathed.

“Thought you’d never ask,” Jane replied, as the two hurried down the hallway, for a fleeting moment thoughts solely on each other. 

**********

In the end, a team of twelve was assembled. For his own part, Garrus took General Corinthus and Etarn Tiron, a master swordsman. His father had not been pleased that both his son and a well respected General were going on what he saw as a one-way trip. 

“You’re only going because of the human Commander!” Castis had insisted the evening before the team left Cipritine. “If not for her, you’d see what a hopeless crusade this was.”

“Her _name_ ,” Garrus seethed, “is Jane Shepard. You _know_ that and yet continue to treat her like an unwanted verran. She’s not stupid - she sees the way you avoid her, make an effort to hide yourself so that you don’t have to engage in conversation. And our mission isn’t hopeless, it’s necessary. How many more people do we need to lose for you to realize that?”

“Garrus,” his father began, exasperation dripping from his vocals like thick honey, “you’re heir to the throne of Cipritine and my son. How can you expect me to endorse your quest to meet an early demise? If death doesn’t find you in that chasm your insistence on bonding with a human who cannot possibly return your adoration will see your spirit incinerated, and yourself left nothing but an empty shell compelled by base needs and nothing more. Is that the ruler our people deserve? Is that the life you want for yourself?”

The king’s eyes were copper cold, and in their icy irises, Garrus thought he could glimpse the forlorn shadow of his mother gliding into the spirit realm, his father’s hope and joy following after her. “You talk about being left hollow inside,” Garrus answered with forced calm. “Tell me dad, have you really been alive since mom died? If she were still here, wouldn’t you follow her to whatever place her coils took her?”

“I lost your mother to a disease I couldn’t prevent,” his father said, tone low and angry though tinged with sorrow. “Must I also lose my son?” 

“I’m coming back,” Garrus told him sounding more confident than perhaps he should. “And when I do, I intend to become more serious with Jane.”

Castis sighed, his plates and royal robes suddenly too heavy for him as his slumped under the weight of his son’s words. For the first time in years Garrus felt that he was truly seeing his father, and not just the mask the man perpetually wore. But his mind  was made up, and so he bid his father farewell before joining the _xemna_ caravan as it steadily trod out the Nanus gate and into the diamond dunes.

Jane had said the _xemna_ resembled rhinoceros with even thicker hides and tusks instead of horns. He wasn’t sure if this was true, but in addition to being the main source of protein for his people, _xemna_ were built to endure the worst the desert had to offer. Bathed in the ethereal hues of sunset, their bronze bodies glowed where they weren’t weighted down with supplies. 

“You all need too much water,” Grunt complained as they walked through the night. “Krogan can go days without a drink, be a lot less gear to carry that way if everyone were krogan.”

“Also a higher chance of infighting and internal dispute leading to a complete mission failure,” Tim stated, a cigarette burning from between his lips. “Krogan have no discipline, it’s a wonder Urdnot Wrex can maintain any control over Tuchanka.”

Grunt scowled at him but didn’t reply. Garrus wasn’t sure what Tim’s specialty was, though Etarn had suggested that he might make nice Collector bait. The older humans’ disdain for anything ‘inhuman’ was a poorly kept secret, though even Jane and Miranda seemed to detest him. 

Their days fell into a routine; trek by the cool of evening and the starry compasses that swirled in the night sky while resting in the shade provided by tents and the _xemna’s_ shadows during the day.     

When nearly two weeks into their journey the dead and withered lake bed of _nidifica vespa_ came into view, shimmering in the midday sun as though it still held water, everyone seemed to be at a momentary loss for words. 

“Alright people,” Jane said taking charge. “We need to move while there’s still daylight since these things are apparently nocturnal.”

Everyone gathered around her in a circle as she stood hands akimbo on her hips. “We need one or two people to stay topside with the _xemna_ and supplies, and to help pull us out once we’ve ignited the place.”

“I’ll stay,” Liara offered stepping forward. “I’m not an exceedingly powerful mage, but I can use my abilities to pull people back up if the need arises.”

“I’ll stay too,” Feron said. “I can quickly glide down the pit to assist if necessary.”

“Alright, Liara and Feron will stay above ground,” Jane nodded. “Everyone else, let’s move. Put on your armor, we need as much rope as we can get and all the crystals we can carry.”

Pauldrons, greaves, and chest plates were donned and the supplies unpacked. Soon, a ring of people gathered at the lip of the Seeker cave, it’s dark, cavernous maw yawning wide in anticipation. 

“Thane, can you glide down the shaft with the rope?” Jane asked. “We can tie it to the _xemna_ as an anchor, Liara and Feron can keep them under control.”

Thane stepped forward before bowing his head and uttering what might have been a prayer. Feron echoed the whispered sentiments before handing his friend the thick coils of rope and a white crystal. 

Thane tugged at a few cords on his robes until the red fabric that ran along his sides fell open. Then, with a running start, he spread the gold flaps of skin between his wrists and shins, shining like a polished gem in the afternoon sun as he lept into the air, slowly circling downward into the ebony darkness of the earth, engulfed by eternal midnight. 

No one breathed as they stared into the empty pit, waiting for a sign or sound. Then, the rope tied to the largest _xemna_ gave three fierce tugs. “Samara, you’re next,” Jane ordered. The asari matriarch gracefully took hold of the rope, shimmying down it at lightning speed. 

One by one, the others followed until they were all standing on what felt like a silt covered floor. Garrus pulled out his own yellow star crystal, holding it aloft to take in their surroundings. Despite the blackness, the place was one of swirling sepia dust. It clung to cold rock and floated in the pale light, giving the impression of a pervasive rot.

“Fascinating, sounds of wind yet no noticeable source,” Mordin noted. “Like being in lungs of earth.”

 _Corrupted lungs,_  Garrus thought to himself, tail rattling in agitation. The golden pikes of his armor that ran along his lower body gleamed dully in the wane crystal light, and gathering his resolve, he followed Jane deeper into the sediment laden air of the Collector hive.  


	10. Into the Abyss

Everything here was wrong; rock and stone formations lurked in debris laden shadows, their shapes speaking of the chiseling effect of rain water, but if you looked closer, you could see the indentation of incisor-like teeth puncturing the ancient stone. 

Rust colored dirt and decay clung to everything and Jane could feel the cloying particles sticking to her bare skin as polluted dust rained down on them from sources unknown. Garrus and the other turians made subharmonic rumbles to each other, and while unable to understand all the nuances of their echoed language, Jane felt certain they were just as on edge as the rest of their group. 

After walking through a wide tunnel filled with the haunting whistles of an absent wind, they reached an intersection in the cavern, splitting off into two directions. “Legend says the tunnels rejoin,” Garrus murmured, gliding up alongside her. “But they don’t say when, or how deep they plunge first.” 

Jane’s mouth tugged into a grim line. They were going to have to split up. She’d known this when Garrus had first told her about what little his people knew of the Collector hive, but now, faced with the inevitable, a sense of dread settled on her chest like a pile of bricks. 

“We can each lead a team,” she said, forcing her words past the lump that had formed in her throat. “I’ll take Samara, Mordin, Grunt, and Tim, you can lead the others.”

In the dim light from her crystal torch, Garrus’s eyes glowed like fire opals in shards of blue, orange, and white. She’d see those beautiful eyes again, she promised herself, lifting up onto her toes to press her forehead against his in a turian display of affection. This was just a temporary separation. 

She backed away from him hesitantly before focusing her gaze on the tunnel to the left. “If either team finds something before reuniting, don’t hesitate to burn it,” she said. “Grunt, take half the skins, Corinthus, you and Etarn can take the other half.” The two turians nodded moving over to relieve Grunt from the massive pack he’d been carrying. 

With a final parting glance to Garrus, Jane and her team set off down their chosen path, the only noises their footfalls and an occasional nervous hum above the spectral breeze that seemed to be all around them yet forever without a source. 

At some point, Tim’s near constant supply of cigarettes ran out and he responded by grumbling loudly and stomping his feet harder than necessary. “Recommend quiet,” Mordin told him politely. “No knowing what to expect up ahead.”

In the brackish light cast by their crystals, Jane could almost see Tim glare at the perceived annoying ‘other’ in the group. “You don’t know anything -” Tim began, only to cut off when the tunnel dropped sharply, causing everyone to scramble for footing as they slid down the silt covered slope and landed in a large, open expanse. 

Holding their crystals above their heads, Jane quickly realized that they’d found the place they were looking for: clusters of orange, milky looking polyps were glued to every available surface of the chamber, and scuttling over them with a deafening buzz of wings were hoards of Seekers. 

“Shit,” she heard Tim curse before Samara erupted in a blaze of magical, cobalt energy. A glowing dome materialized around them, sparking as Seekers flung themselves violently against it.

“I cannot maintain the barrier indefinitely,” Samara warned them face serene as ever though her voice was strained with effort. 

“Set the skins against the wall! Move!” Jane commanded.

Mordin and Tim sprang to life, pulling the turian scales out of the colossal pack on Grunt’s back and stacking them against a wall partially enveloped by Samara’s magical barrier. They took care to arrange the skins around what had to be Seeker eggs and a massive stone pillar. With any luck, the pillar would topple and spread the flames further afield. 

Tim pulled out several items from his own satchel, back turned to the rest of the group. From the faint flickers of light, Jane assumed he was preparing to set his pile of scales ablaze. 

There was a sudden booming sound like a lightning strike, and Jane whipped around to see Mordin charging back toward them. “Must run!” he yelled as he tore past, “eggs flammable!”

“Go!” Jane screamed, just as Tim rejoined them. 

Hot sounding bursts and pops pounded in their ears as eggs exploded all around them and fire like a tiger’s claws shredded upward to reach the eggs on the ceiling. Magma-like ooze poured down spreading the inferno, until the cavern they’d fallen into became a lake of liquid fire that both shot outward and bore down into the ground. 

“Go, go, go!” Jane shouted as they ran back up the steep slope and down the long tunnel they’d come from, an ominous, pulsing light in hot pursuit, heat scalding stone and turning sand to glass. 

There was an earth shattering boom that threw her nearly to her knees before she regained her balance, feet a blur as she ran. 

The ground was changing - where there had once been hard rock and sand and sediment there was now mud and water rising at an alarming rate. Suddenly the underground sounds of wind made sense. The waters of _nidifica vespa,_ left slumbering beneath a cocoon of stone for centuries were free and surging heavenwards once more. 

As she and her team sloshed through the rising lake, she could only hope that Garrus and the others were already topside, or else back at the rope awaiting rescue. 

 _Be safe_ , she willed. _Be waiting for me_. 

**********

He decidedly hated this place. Unlike the shining stone and masonry of Cipritine that felt alive and spoke of warmth, this cavern  was reminiscent of a crypt. There was a cold here that pressed down through his gold and azure armor and sank white frost fangs into his scales. The others felt it too; the sensation of being watched in a place where only dead things should dwell. 

Yet nothing moved in the pervasive darkness, their crystals only revealing more filthy rock and churning dust. Still, Garrus gripped his crossbow to his chest in a ready position. A glance to Thane saw the drell was of a like mind, while Corinthus’s hand never strayed far from the bronze pommel of his sword.  

They trekked in silence, senses on full alert. The discovery of a pockmarked, brittle human skeleton only heightened the rank smell of anxiety clinging to their bodies and the nervous, twitching movements of limbs. Something had dragged this long forgotten soul here; something strong.  

Miranda was the first to see them. The Collectors looked like mutated praying mantises, elongated forearms covered in malicious, barbed spines that they could shoot at enemies like arrows. They had four sets of eyes that seemed perpetually rolled back in their skulls and stared lidlessly outward like blighted pearls. 

“Take cover!” Garrus ordered even as Miranda stepped forward, fists igniting in blue orbs of light. The first volley of spines snapped against Miranda’s barrier, but the Collectors were ravenous beasts cursed to eternal hunger.

The tunnel heaved with insectoid bodies as the creatures trampled one another, maws full of black knives open and hissing as they rushed for fresh meat. 

“Lay down a suppressive volley!” Garrus yelled even as he aimed his crossbow and let an arrow fly. A Collector’s head erupted in a geyser of putrid smelling pitch, an action soon repeated as Thane unleashed a barrage of his own arrows. 

Still they came, an endless torrent of shrieking monsters, carapaces the same color as their decrepit hive, mindless, hungry, insatiable. 

“There’s too many of them!” Corinthus called, sword drawn and gleaming in the aurora from Miranda’s magical shields.  

“Throw down the skins!” Garrus ordered Etarn. “Bring the tunnel down on them!”

Etarn and Corinthus hurriedly started to pile up the discarded scales along the tunnel walls, but not before several of the Collectors forced their way around Miranda’s weakening barrier. Charging forward with a roar, Garrus whipped around so that the diamond shaped blade of his armor, situated at the tail, decapitated a Collector before it could strike. 

He repeated his actions, firing arrows when the opportunity presented itself but relying mostly on his close quarters combat training, using his armored coils as a lethal weapon.

“It’s done! Go!” Etarn cried out, even as he brought the serrated edge of his sword down to cleave a Collector nearly in half. 

Blinding light spit and frothed from the ignited skins until the tunnel blazed like the desert sun. Garrus flew from the fire like a serpentine phoenix as behind him unnatural screams and the sound of cracking exoskeletons filled the air now heavy with smoke and the promise of a cave-in. 

He pushed his coils to their limits, racing down the super-heated chamber that felt like a leviathan’s throat as the ground shook and coughed, the smell of moisture filling his nostrils. Then he was plowing his way through quicksand. Quagmire pulled against his scales, weighing him down even as the resounding noise of collapsing rock pushed him onward. 

“The tunnel is flooding!” Miranda exclaimed in disbelief. “We’ll drown if we don’t get back to the cave shaft!”

There was no point wasting breath in replying, what little air his lungs still held Garrus focused on using to escape. His vision narrowed to the quaking path in front of him, wavering in and out of sight as his hand holding the star crystal jostled and shook with his flight. 

They hit each other hard, Jane knocking him to the ground and the pair landing in a muddy tangle of coils and limbs. 

“Garrus!” 

“Jane!”

“Move! This whole place is flooding as it implodes!” Miranda called as she rushed past. 

Surging back upright, Garrus and Jane rejoined their fleeing teammates until they at last reached the cave entrance and could glimpse the pinprick of light from the surface.

“Pull us out!” Tim bellowed, shoving past Samara and grabbing onto the rope, legs and feet kicking wildly as he started to climb. 

Water eddied around Jane’s knees as amplified wails and shrieks filled the cave, the Collectors and Seekers cursing them with their dying breaths. 

“Hurry up!” Grunt yelled at Tim who had disappeared from sight. 

“Go!” Jane ordered Mordin. The salarian quickly took hold of the rope and began to climb, followed by Corinthus, Miranda, and the rest. 

When the sky was within sight, the calm blue ready to embrace them with open arms, the rope began to swing and sway violently, as though the _xemna_ it were tied to was rearing back on its haunches. 

“Control the Spirits damned things!” Corinthus called upwards, fear ringing loudly in his vocals. 

Turians couldn’t swim. It was a well known fact that their armored scales were as good as anchors, pulling them beneath the surface to never taste the air again. Glancing down at the rising waters Garrus realized with stark horror that a fall would mean their deaths; too deep, too dark, too cold, he and his kinsmen would drown. 

Thankfully the others added more speed to their frantic assent, and Garrus sank his claws into the hard, solid earth of the surface, hauling himself over the lip of the chasm and rolling several feet away to lie wheezing on his side. 

“What the hell happened?” He heard Jane demanding. “Where is he?” 

Forcing himself up, Garrus glanced over to where Liara was attempting to soothe an agitated _xemna_ while Jane stood over Feron who was cradling his head in his hands. Blood seeped from between the drell’s fingers as he pressed a palm to his forehead. 

“Tim attacked me,” Feron answered, voice full of disbelief. “He tried to take one of the _xemna_ and I blocked him, but he slashed me with his knife.”

“I knew I hated him for a reason,” Grunt growled. “Which way did he go?”

“Charging off into the desert without supplies?” Miranda shook her head as Garrus rejoined the group. “Tim’s an asshole, but he’s not stupid. Why would he risk certain death?”

“We can figure that out later,” Jane advised, eyes sweeping over the rest of their team. “Right now, the lake is about to refill itself, and I’d rather not be standing in the middle of it when that happens. Everyone move!”

As if in answer to her fears, the ground rumbled and began to buckle, fueling Garrus’s exhausted body with new urgency as they grabbed the reins of the _xemna_ and ran across the dry lake bed. Feet and coils began to break through the earth as the cracked, parched lake bed became suddenly fecund once more. 

The last few paces to safety beckoned to them, and many of the team jumped to the shore. But then the ground beneath him fractured, splits like spiderwebs forming in the dirt before he was falling, the rush of a watery grave reaching out for him. 

His arm was clasped in a five-fingered vice, his vision swimming with desperate, determined emerald as Jane pulled him onto the bank with Grunt’s help. 

Gasping, they held each other as the waters of _nidifica vespa_ erupted into new life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge shout-out to Mary whose fabulous fanart inspired the armor and clothing descriptions for the turians and drell. You're the best Mary!


	11. A Paradise for Two

Blackberry dusk settled over the reborn lake, fog roiling on the surface like storm clouds. Jane wrapped her blanket more securely over her shoulders, easing into Garrus’s embrace with a sigh. 

“It’s beautiful,” she said softly. “Plants and birds will arrive soon, this will be an oasis to put the rest to shame.”

Garrus hummed, hand tightening around her waist. “This could become a trade hub,” he noted. “A perfect middle ground for Citadel and Hierarchy commerce.”

Jane twisted around so she could look him in the eyes. “Do you think your father will be open to trade now? Or even joining the Council?”

“Whether he likes it or not, he’s established a dialogue with the other races, it’d be stupid to let that go to waste. I think you’ll be seeing turian envoys at the Citadel soon,” he added with a sly grin. Jane chuckled, moving to press her brow to his. If Garrus had any say in the matter she was sure integration with the Council would happen far quicker than anyone would have anticipated. 

She wanted to ask him about their relationship, but as the words formed on her tongue, there was a call from Feron who was on sentry duty. They’d decided to rest for the night - everyone exhausted from their ordeal within the Collector hive - but concerns over Tim and any surviving Seekers had necessitated guard duty. 

“There’s a large procession of turians approaching!” Feron informed them as he jogged over to the camp. 

In the flat expanse of land that stretched out from _nidifica vespa_ a long, winding caravan of firefly lights could be seen blinking on the horizon. Jane’s vision wasn’t as sharp as Feron’s, but the movement of the glowing flames seemed to indicate a serpentine glide of the wielders. 

“It’s my sister!” Garrus gasped. 

“Your sister?” Jane repeated. “I thought she was visiting one of your furthest colonies?”

“She was,” Garrus answered, moving in the direction of the lights to get a better look. “She was at Invictus speaking with one of our Generals stationed there. What’s she doing all the way out here?” he wondered aloud. 

By the time princess Solana and her entourage arrived, the entire team was awake and waiting. 

“Lady Solana,” Corinthus greeted with a polite bow. “We’re honored by your presence.”

Solana waved off the formality with a brusque hand movement. She all but shimmered in the firelight; her armor was similar to her brothers’, cobalt plates with vicious, gold pikes running down the back. However, her over-sized, golden shoulder pauldrons were crafted to mimic wings, making her look like a winged basilisk in the light cast by the leaping flames. 

“Sol, what are you doing here?” Garrus asked as he glided forward. 

“Dad sent a _nox_ to Invictus saying you were taking part in a suicide mission and refusing to listen to reason,” she replied. “He practically begged me to talk some sense into you.” She cast her azure eyes out toward the new lake and waters lapping at the shore. “Seems like things worked out though.”

“Princess Solana,” Jane said stepping forward, “while you were in route to our location, did you encounter any other humans? Specifically, an older human male?”

“Funny you should mention that,” Solana answered. “We came across some unusual impressions in the sand earlier this evening. Tracks, human and turian, headed in the direction of Cipritine. At first we thought it might be your group, but it was only the two sets.”

“Tim is the only other human out here as far as we know,” Liara frowned. “But who’s guiding him?”

“I know who,” Garrus hissed, a slow building rumble like approaching thunder in his vocals. “It’s Sidonis. The last information we had on his whereabouts placed him here.”

“Why would Tim be working with a wanted turian traitor?” Jane puzzled. “And what could Sidonis be getting out of it?”

“Who cares what he’s getting out of it,” Garrus growled, tail rattling in fury. “How far back did you see those tracks?” he demanded, turning to his sister. “If Sidonis is nearby, I have an arrow with his name on it.”

“At least two or three hours ago,” Solana replied looking confused. “What has Captain Sidonis got to do with any of this?”

Garrus was already gliding away from the camp toward where he’d stowed his armor and weapons. “I’ll tell you exactly what that bastard has to do with it,” he called over his shoulder, nodding for her to follow him. 

As the pair disappeared from sight Jane turned to Miranda. “If Tim’s involved with a plot to destabilize the turian throne and kill the crown prince, he has to be stopped at any cost. Our future relations with the Hierarchy could be at stake.”

Miranda crossed her arms, staring off in the direction Garrus and Solana had gone. “What do you want to do?” she asked. 

“We’re going with them,” Jane sighed, knowing there was no way Garrus would wait until daybreak. “We’ll try to take Tim alive for questioning.”

“Try?” Miranda arched a perfectly sculpted ebony brow. 

“Try.” Jane confirmed before walking off to get into her own armor. 

Garrus’s impatience and heightened energy hung heavy in the air, the electrical charge before a storm hit. The turians unspoken, subharmonic language vibrated all around her as they trekked at twice their normal speed back in the direction of Cipritine. 

“Unlikely will find them,” Mordin opined. “Only know general direction of travel, and they have substantial lead.”

“They’ll need water,” Garrus replied, voice little more than a snarl. “There’s only one well in this vicinity - I know where _he_ is.”

Jane glanced at Solana who was likewise watching her brother with concern. She understood his desire for revenge - hell, she wanted it herself for what the disgraced Captain and Tim had done. But Garrus was acting like some crazed assassin - she wasn’t entirely convinced he’d even _bother_ trying to shoot Sidonis. The way he kept flexing his hands, talons curling into his palms like an eagle’s foot spoke of a desire to rend and rip his foe apart. 

Dawn rose like a dying swan on their caravan, pale and trepidatious. When the land curved into a series of large dunes, Garrus halted their progression. “It’s over there,” he said pointing to a far off dune. “I’m going in alone.”

“No, you aren’t,” Jane told him. “I’m going too. I want to take Tim alive if I can - I want to know what his role was in all this.” 

Garrus looked like he wanted to argue, but instead he merely gave her a sharp nod of agreement. “Let’s go,” he growled.

Creeping along the dune’s shadow, footsteps and scales carefully laid, the sight of two crumpled forms came into view. Garrus loaded and aimed his crossbow at the larger of the figures, arrow flying with divine purpose as it struck his target with an audible _thwump._

The individual didn’t so much as flinch at the impact, nor did his companion. Rising from her prone position, Jane walked boldly over to the corpses. Tim’s eyes were wide, an unnatural, whetted knife smile carving across his face as dried blood painted streaks down his chin. 

“What happened to them?” Garrus asked, rage replaced with confusion and disbelief as he poked Sidonis’s lifeless body with the bladed tip of his tail. “They look like they’ve succumbed to Seeker venom. But the Seeker’s are all dead.” He looked to Jane as though she knew the answer.

Her eyes traced over the stiff limbs and torpid shapes before them. There were puncture wounds in Tim’s neck and chest, and along Sidonis’ coils. Her gaze fell upon Tim’s discarded satchel and a brittle, orange thing sticking out of it. 

Cautiously approaching the bag, Jane lifted the flap to reveal a dried, broken Seeker egg. _That traitorous, power hungry,_   _ **imbecile**!_ She internally cursed. Stealing a Seeker egg from the hive… Seeker venom was a powerful poison. They’d heard tales while in Cipritine of its corrosive effects on internal organs. If Tim had managed to hatch the thing and milk it, he could’ve laced blades and arrow heads with the stuff, making even a slight graze of a weapon deadly. 

“Over here!” Garrus called to her. Jane tore her eyes from Tim’s satchel, jogging over to where Garrus was peering down at something not too far from Sidonis’s body. In the strengthening light of day, the crushed form of a small Seeker lay shattered upon the sands. 

“Looks like they returned the gift of death,” she mused. “I can understand why Tim thought stealing an egg was worth the risk, but what part did Sidonis have in all this? There’s no way they could have actually trusted each other.” Her eyes flashed up to Garrus, whose mandibles were pinched tightly to his face in thought. 

“Sidonis and the other anarchists have been trying to weaken the throne for years,” he said. “It wouldn’t surprise me to learn they’d sought help outside our race, and given Tim's thoughts on human racial superiority, strife within the Hierarchy is something he'd _love_. Still though, to betray Tim and take the egg for himself, Sidonis would’ve needed help.”

Suddenly uneasy being alone, the pair made their way back to the others, casting furtive glances to the silent mountains of sand, alert for any movement or sound. If there were other turian anarchists around, they couldn’t afford to be taken unawares. 

Solana sent out a _nox_ immediately, advising king Castis of the situation. The rest of their journey back to the turian capital was spent in stifling anticipation. However, nothing out of the ordinary was seen or heard, which perplexed Jane more than anything else. Sidonis should have had more than a few followers ready to meet him. Where were they?

The answer, it turned out, was awaiting them in Cipritine. They were met by a General Victus, as well as the king. Concerned over reports of anarchists attempting to make _nidifica vespa_ a possible strong hold, General Victus had taken a squad in that direction shortly after Solana had departed Invictus. They’d encountered a convoy of anarchists in the dunes several days travel from the Collector hive and engaged them in combat. The scrolls and attenuating papers they uncovered in the aftermath painted a clear plan to use Seeker venom to kill the royal family and assert turian authority over the other races. 

“It would seem the egg they stole hatched sooner than expected,” Victus stated after hearing from Garrus and Jane. “What’s the human phrase?” he asked Jane. “The problem took care of itself?”

“Seems that way” Jane replied, breathing a sigh of relief. However, her comfort instantly vanished when Garrus’s father turned his whiskey colored eyes in her direction. 

“Commander Shepard,” he acknowledged with a polite bow. “It would seem I owe you a debt of gratitude. You’ve destroyed the Collector hive, returned my children unharmed, and inadvertently also foiled an attempt on my life.” He straightened his posture before addressing her again. “I am not in the habit of being wrong, but in this case, I have misjudged you. And for that, you have my sincerest apologies. If you and my son wish to continue your courtship, you have my blessing, for what that’s worth.”

As the king glided off, General Victus in tow, Jane didn’t bother trying to hide her triumphant smile. 

**********

The ocean wasn’t blue like Jane had said - blue was too simple a description. The waves and breakers stole the sunlight, warped it into colors he couldn’t name before laying it down in bubbling foam upon the wet sand. Out past the push and pull of the tide, water glittered in blinding, silver sparkles that made him squint.

Jane laid her head against his shoulder as they stared out at the fathomless expanse. The sounds of other beach goers and the Citadel beyond faded into a steady murmur, as monotonous as the surf; a sea of people to mirror the ocean. 

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to seeing so much water in one place,” Garrus sighed. “You were right - it is beautiful here,” he told Jane, looking down to her soft, content expression.

Jane lifted her head, sunbeams dancing across her fiery hair, making it glow like embers from their place in the shade of a palm tree. “It is gorgeous,” she affirmed. “Though, the Palaveni desert at sunset is a sight to rival anything the ocean has to offer.”

Garrus huffed. “You didn’t always think that,” he reminded her, hand reaching down to clasp her own smaller one, his thumb running across the intricate gold and platinum ring he’d presented to her several months ago. A human tradition. A symbol of his promise that the following spring, at a ceremony containing mixed traditions, he’d pledge himself to her for eternity. 

“What can I say? Being the human ambassador to the Hierarchy and spending so much time in Cipritine has changed my perception of things,” she replied, standing on her toes to plant a sweet kiss against his mouth plates. “The company has been nice too,” she smirked at him. 

Garrus purred. “Only the best for my honey.” 

As they kissed again, deeper this time on the shores of the Widow Sea, Garrus mused that for all the natural beauty and abundance around them, having Jane in his arms was his own personal oasis. He never thought he’d find peace in the arms of a human, but here, with her, they were finally both in their chosen paradise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's all she wrote folks! Last chapter will actually be my turian dictionary and some artwork. I hope readers enjoyed my take on a fantasy ME2 story, it was incredibly fun to write. =)


	12. Dictionary

  1. Scortum – sexual predator or whore


  1. Spiritus Auream -- A spirit of Palaven’s sun, Trebia. While not personified like human spirits with a physical body, these spirits are said to be made of pure, golden light, and are immensely powerful and revered.


  1. Aureola – A special type of crown formally worn by high ranking turians centuries ago. Resembles a halo.


  1. Coelum – The turian version of heaven, where the spirits of Trebia dwell.


  1. Dea – A word taken from the asari, loosely translates to Goddess.


  1. Erat Herba: A park in Cipritine comparable to Central Park in New York City. The Latin word literally means vegetation.


  1. Taetrian Laudatix: The ministry of citizenship rankings on Taetrus. Each Hierarchy planet has its own Laudatix.


  1. Shalta: A large, armor plated and tusked land animal native to the woodland areas of Palaven.


  1. Asinus – Palaveni word for an idiot or fool.


  1. Amicae – the turian version of a girlfriend or exclusive significant other.


  1. Quadrupes Graditur – A turian sex position similar to “doggie-style.”


  1. Nothi – A colloquial Taetrun word, basically means “bastard.”


  1. Delectamenti – A turian specialty shop on the Citadel.


  1. Taetrus Festum – A fish dish from the turian colony world, Taetrus, notable for its rich sauce.


  1. Salmo – A very large, heavy-scaled, fresh water fish, similar to an Arapaima from Earth.


  1. Domine – A polite version of “Sir” used for people outside the military. Generally used for elders.


  1. Yuba Sauce – A vegetable and meat stock sauce popular with fish.


  1. Culus – Colloquial Taetrun word for “asshole.”


  1. Carissime – A Palaveni endearment, means loosely “my dearest love.”


  1. Tevik – A predatory creature from Palaven that stalks it’s prey with elongated, graceful strides to its gait.


  1. Oserun – A ceremony that recognizes the promotion of turians to a new citizenship tier. It is a very formal, public event.


  1. Aeternum Song – Loosely translates to “heart song,” and is a type of vocalization turians make for their romantic partners. The song is specific to the mate, if a turian has more than one partner in a lifetime, the new song will vary drastically.


  1. Malum – A small sweet fruit, similar to an apple


  1. Altera Domi – Translates to “second home,” and is the name of the Bed and Breakfast run by Tassius’s family


  1. Ludos – A common game played by turian children, involves walking exactly in another person’s footprints while trying to stay in a straight line.


  1. Subplantat – A slang word for “pervert.”


  1. Flos – A type of beautiful, silver flower native to Palaven.


  1. Gantu – An armored, pungent creature, native to Taetrus which fills a similar ecological niche to that of the American Opossum.


  1. Promissum – The turian version of an engagement or proposal, refers more to the ritual of bringing another person into the clan. Has greatly fallen out of use in turian modern culture.


  1. Vinum – A type of turian wine, can come in a burgundy or sparkling variety.


  1. Corda – An older term of Palaveni origin, loosely translates to “the reason for my heart beat” and is often used between mates.


  1. Parvus – Palaveni word for “tiny one” or “lovely small thing,” used often for babies.


  1. Spona – The turian version of a fiancé, or else a person betrothed to another.


  1. Dilectæ – A Palaveni endearment, translates to “my beloved spouse.”


  1. Crustulam Cibum – A type of small meat cake filled with herbs and baked meat. A common breakfast food for turians.


  1. Xemna – A large type of herd animal used for food. The turian equivalent of a cow or beef.


  1. Louza – A type of dextro poultry. The turian version of chicken.


  1. Mexta – A short sword often used in duels. Are frequently worn by high ranking military officials during important social events.


  1. Fulgur Manus – Translated, means “lightning talons” and is a hand-to-hand combat technique used by turian biotics where their energy is focused into their claws for ripping, slashing attacks.


  1. Ad vitam est scriptor – An old Palaveni phrase, translates to “my reason for living.” An extremely intimate phrase, since turians are taught that sacrifice for the people and cause are their duty. Saying this to a mate essentially tells them they are worth more than anyone else; a radical notion for a turian.


  1. Vastum – Slang word for cowards, literally translates to garbage or waste.


  1. Pallii – The turian equivalent of a kilt, worn by males around the house. Basically, turian sweatpants.


  1. Proditor – A derogatory term for biotics. Means traitor or freak but with implications that their biotics are what makes them unclean and “other.”


  1. Crassusa – A type of tree native to Taetrus with, large, round trunks and an umbrella of mauve colored leaves at the tops. Very drought resistant.


  1. Sorden mos – A term for lowly, craven cowards of the worst variety.


  1. Nitatis – A term used to describe the act of knotting. Translates to “becoming one” since the partners are tied together for up to thirty minutes.


  1. Sorora – translates to “chosen sister” and is a term to describe a deep, familial relationship between too women unrelated by blood.


  1. Irruma – Turian curse word similar to “fuck” though not as frequently used.


  1. Rí – An infantile version of father, the human equivalent being “dada.” Used by very young turian chicks.


  1. Amor facit – The act of “making love” or sexual intercourse with intense romantic feelings behind it.


  1. Marcas Dignus – Translates to “kinship marks” and is a type of tattoo pattern used by turians to proclaim their familial relationships; i.e. mates represented by two solid lines running along the keel and children or progeny as arrows. The color can vary though the design remains the same.


  1. Frigus weed – A type of aquatic plant with numbing properties, frequently used for operations.


  1. Lacerta – A creature that is reptilian in nature and used similarly to a horse. Before the industrial age, turians rode these creatures as a means of faster transport, and on agrarian colony worlds lacerta are still often used as mounts.


  1. Nox – A bat-like creature the size of a domestic house cat, used to carry messages across the Palaveni desert.



 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please feel free to use any of these terms in your own works, though I'd appreciate it if you said where you took them from =)
> 
> All the wonderful artwork which influenced how I wrote the character's outfits was done by the fabulous Mary!

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back on my fantasy-romance nonsense! Feel free to say hello on Tumblr or Twitter, @wafflesrock16.


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